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Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 

Belle  S.  Spafford  ---_._  President 

Marianne  C.   Sharp       ------  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.   Simonsen      -----  Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.   Pickering  -  Secretary-Treasurer 

Achsa  E.  Paxman  Leone  G.  Layton  Lillie  C.  Adams  Christine  H.  Robinson 

Mary  G.  Judd  Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Louise  W.  Madsen  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

Anna  B.  Hart  Evon  W.  Peterson  Aleine  M.  Young  Nellie  W.  Neal 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Leone  O.  Jacobs  josie  B.  Bay  Mildred  B.  Eyring 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Mary  J.  Wilson  Aha  J.  Vance  Helen  W.  Anderson 


Editor     --            -            -            -             -             -             -             -             -             -  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate   Editor           -------                           -  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager        -____•____  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  39  JANUARY  1952  No.  1 


on  tents 


Greetings  for  the  New  Year  General  Presidency  of  Relief  Society  3 

Purpose  of  Writing  "The  Progress  of  Man"  Joseph  Fielding  Smith  4 

Latter-day  Saint  Education  to  Build  Faith  Mark  E.  Petersen  8 

Award  Winners — Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  12 

Shine  Softly,  Stars — First  Prize  Poem  : Sylvia  Probst  Young  13 

Words — Second  Prize  Poem  Iris  W.   Schow  14 

Barren  Woman's  Cry — Third  Prize  Poem  Mabel  Law  Atkinson  15 

Award  Winners — Annual  Relief  Society  Story  Contest  16 

Biographical  Sketches  of  Award  Winners  17 

Eloise  and  the  Indian — First  Prize  Story  Mabel  S.   Harmer  18 

Stemming  the  Tide  of  Poliomyelitis  24 


Uncertain  Possession — Chapter  1  Beatrice  R.   Parsons  25 

A  Strange  Christmas  Eve  Jeanette  McKay  Morrell'  35 

Replica  of  Yesteryear  Cecil  G.  Pugmire  39 

Through  This  Door — Chapter  6  (Conclusion)  Margery  S.  Stewart  41 


Sixty  Years  Ago  30 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  31 

Editorial:  "We  Seek  After  These  Things"  Vesta  P.  Crawford  32 

Notes  to  the  Field:    Bound  Volumes  of  1951  Relief  Society  Magazines  34 

Award  Subscriptions  Presented  in  April 34 

Notes  From  the  Field:  Relief  Society  Activtities  

General  Secretary  Treasurer,  Margaret  C.  Pickering  44 

From  Near  and  Far 72 


An  Easy  Dress  to  Make  for  Daughter  Celia  Luce  40 


Theology:    The  Formation  and  Dispersion  of  the  House  of  Israel Leland  H.  Monson  50 

Visiting  Teacher  Messages:    "I  Have  None  Other  Object"  Leone  O.  Jacobs  54 

Work  Meeting — Sewing:  Sleeves,  Underarm  Patches,  and  Mending  Sheers  

Jean   Ridges   Jennings  55 

Literature:    William  Wordsworth  Briant  S.   Jacobs  57 

Social  Science:    Groping  Toward  Liberty  of  Conscience  Archibald  F.  Bennett  62 

Music:    Review  of  the  6/8  Baton  Pattern  Florence  J.  Madsen  65 


Lullaby  —  Frontispiece  Lael  W.  Hill     1 

They  Wait  and  Pray  Ruth  H.  Chadwick    7 

Friend  of  the  Lord  Josephine  J.  Harvey     7 

Snowflake    * Maryhale    Woolsey  11 

Deep  Winter  Bernice  T.   Clayton  29 

It  Is  Winter  Grace  M.   Candland  33 

January   Grace   Barker   Wilson  34 

Chord  of  Knowing  C.  Camerson  Johns  34 

Morning  Song  Vesta  N.  Lukei  49 

Prayer  Dorothy  R.  Salyer  70 


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of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
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The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 


VOL  39,   NO.  1  JANUARY  1952 


Lael  W.  Hill 

Unroll  the  shadows  now;  out  of  dim  corners 
Draw  the  soft  twilight,  the  velvet-gray  gloom. 
Layer  on  layer,  swathe  carpet  and  ceiling- 
Veil  the  four  walls  of  the  little  boy's  room. 

Ravel  the  outlines  of  crib  and  of  rocker; 
Loose  a  low  humming  through  dusk  flowing  deep. 
Tenderly  watch,  while  his  eyelids  grow  weary- 
Tenderly  wait,  till  he  drifts  into  sleep. 

Cover  him  warmly  with  comfort  and  loving; 
Fasten  one  wishing-star,  tiny  and  bright, 
Outside  his  window.    Now  darkness  enfolds  him— 
Leave  him  to  dreaming  .  .  .  goodnight  .  .  .  goodnight. 

The  Cover:  The  Grand  Tetons  in  Winter 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Willard  Luce 


(greetings  for  the  tlew    LJear 

HPHIS  is  the  dawn  of  a  New  Year.  A  time  when  we  pause  to  reflect  upon 
the  past  and  to  evaluate  and  be  thankful  for  the  blessings  which  the 
old  year  has  brought.  A  time  to  review  all  the  joyous  things  which  we 
will  choose  to  remember  about  the  old  year,  and  which  we  will  resolve  to 
carry  over  into  the  new  year's  dawning. 

Latter-day  Saint  women  the  world  over  turn  with  gratitude  to  our 
Father  in  heaven  that  we  are  privileged  to  live  at  this  time  in  the  fullness 
of  the  gospel  light,  that  we  have  been  granted  the  rare  opportunity  of 
associating  with  the  women  of  Relief  Society,  who  have  shown  through 
their  devoted  service  to  his  cause,  their  love  of  God  and  their  appreciation 
of  his  blessings. 

We  desire  to  express  our  love  and  gratitude  to  all  the  sisters  for  their 
co-operation  in  everything  asked  of  them,  the  painstaking  efforts  they  have 
made  to  carry  out  all  instructions.  We  tender  our  thanks  for  the  courtesy 
extended  to  us  in  our  visits  to  the  stakes.  We  feel  greatly  enriched  by 
these  associations. 

We  are  grateful  for  all  that  has  been  done  by  the  sisters  throughout 
the  world  in  the  past  to  bring  to  pass  the  present  splendid  condition  of 
Relief  Society. 

The  past  year  has  been  one  of  marked  success  for  Relief  Society  work, 
for  there  has  been  a  notable  increase  in  membership,  accomplishments, 
and  spirituality. 

We  extend  to  our  sisters  everywhere  our  best  wishes  for  a  Happy 
New  Year;  may  it  be  one  of  contentment  and  peace.  If,  in  the  wisdom  of 
God,  these  cannot  come  to  all  mankind,  may  each  obtain  in  his  own  heart 
a  peace  that  passeth  the  understanding  of  men  and  a  contentment  that 
will  endure  throughout  all  time. 


Belle  S.  Spafford 
Marianne  C.  Sharp 
Velma  N.  Simonsen 
General  Presidency 

Purpose  of  Writing  "The  Progress 

of  Man" 

President  Joseph  Fielding  Smith 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  3,  1951.] 

1AM  happy,  I  am  sure,  to  be 
here  and  see  this  building  so 
well  crowded.  I  think  you  will 
have  to  ask  for  the  Tabernacle  next 
time.  I  understood  that  I  was  to 
say  something  in  regard  to  the  book 
The  Progress  of  Man,  but  you 
have  heard  such  a  thorough  pre- 
sentation of  it  that  it  is  hardly 
necessary  for  me  to  say  anything 
more  about  it.  But  I  do  want  to 
tell  you  the  reason  why  this  book 
was  written,  the  purpose  of  it.  On 
the  title  page  you  will  find  two 
paragraphs  that  I  am  going  to  read 
to  you.    This  book  is: 

A  brief  treatise  on  the  outlines  of  man's 
history  upon  the  earth;  his  periods  of  ad- 
vancement and  retrogression,  the  govern- 
ments and  laws — divine  and  human — to 
which  he  has  been  subject  through  the 
ages,  with  a  declaration  that  it  is  the 
right  of  Jesus  Christ  to  rule  and  reign 
upon  the  Earth. 

Also  a  declaration  that  the  hand  of 
the  Almighty  has  been  over  the  nations, 
limiting  them  in  their  exercise  of  power, 
and  turning  their  designs  to  His  own 
purposes.  The  facts  of  history  are  in- 
terpreted in  the  light  of  the  revealed 
Word  of  God,  and  the  final  destiny  of 
the  Earth  and  Man  is  foreshadowed. 

The  revelations  of  the  Lord  teach 
us  a  very  different  story  in  regard 
to  man,  where  he  came  from,  why 
he  is  here,  and  where  he  is  going, 
to  anything  that  you  can  get  in  any 
of  the  textbooks  on  sociology  or 
kindredologies    dealing   with    man. 

Page  4 

The  first  man  placed  upon  the 
earth  was  a  perfect  being,  a  son  of 
God.  He  was  Michael,  the  Arch- 
angel, who  had  reached  great  dis- 
tinction and  power  before  he  ever 
came  to  this  earth,  who  helped  to 
frame  this  earth  while  he  was  yet  a 
spirit,  just  as  our  Lord  and  Savior 
Jesus  Christ  was  a  spirit  before  he 
was  born  in  Bethlehem. 

Michael,  after  being  placed  up- 
on this  earth,  is  known  as  Adam. 
He  received  his  tabernacle  of  flesh 
from  the  dust  of  this  earth,  he  be- 
longs to  it;  but  he  was  one  of  the 
greatest  of  the  intelligences  and 
was  sent  here  to  this  earth  to  stand 
at  the  head  of  his  posterity,  to  rule 
over  them  through  the  ages  of 
eternity.  We  are  indebted  to  him 
for  more  than  we  think.  Through 
him  we  get  these  tabernacles  of 
flesh  and  bones,  tabernacles  for  our 
spirits.  Our  spirits  are  the  begot- 
ten sons  and  daughters  of  God;  so 
is  Adam's,  but  he  was  sent  here  for 
the  purpose  of  peopling  this  earth 
with  bodies  of  flesh  and  bones. 

And  the  Lord  gave  him  com- 
mandments after  he  was  driven  out 
of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  revealed  to 
him  the  plan  of  salvation,  and  he 
taught  his  children,  and  he  set  up 
a  government.  It  was  a  perfect 
government,  for  Adam  listened  to 
the  counsels  of  the  Almighty,  his 
Father,  and  our  Father.    He  taught 


his    children    principles    of    divine  to  give  you  my  law  and  set  your 

truth  and  endeavored  to  establish  people,  your  descendants  on  high, 

them  in  the  knowledge  and  under-  and  they  shall  be  my  people  and  I 

standing  of  the  things  of  the  king-  will  recognize  them  as  my  people, 

dom  of  God.  the  chosen  people." 

We  read  in  the  scriptures  that,  And  through  that  blessing  there 
in  course  of  time,  when  children  came  the  house  of  Israel  and  among 
were  born  they  began  to  rebel,  all  the  nations  upon  the  face  of  the 
many  of  them,  not  all  of  them,  but  earth,  Israel,  apparently,  so  far  as 
a  great  many  of  his  posterity  (and  the  other  side  of  the  world  is  con- 
he  had  a  numerous  posterity)  cerned,  was  the  only  people  who 
turned  away  from  his  teachings,  were  ruled  by  prophets  and  received 
Eventually,  after  Adam  had  filled  commandments  and  were  governed 
his  mission  upon  the  face  of  the  by  the  revelations  coming  from  the 
earth,   the   children   had   forgotten  Lord. 

the  commandments  of  God  and  The  Lord  had  led  a  people  out 
had  rejected  his  government,  and  into  this  part  of  the  country  and 
they  set  up  governments  of  their  called  them  the  Jaredites.  He  started 
own.  They  became  so  corrupt  that  them  off,  too,  long  before  the  days 
the  Lord  had  to  destroy  them  and  of  Abraham,  with  his  command- 
start  over  again.  ments,  and  with  prophets  to  lead 
Noah  and  his  sons  started  out  them.  But  they,  too,  rebelled,  and 
well.  Their  first  government  was  a  Israel  rebelled  and  the  punishments 
theocracy  in  which  the  Lord  spoke,  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them  and 
and  through  which  he  governed,  from  all  the  way  down  from  the 
But  it  was  not  so  many  years  after  very  beginning  of  time  man  has 
the  flood  when  men  again  became  been  rebellious  and  has  refused, 
rebellious  and  turned  away  from  with  few  exceptions  and  short  pe- 
the  truth.  They  began  to  spread  riods  of  time,  to  be  directed  by  di- 
out  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  they  vine  revelation, 
had  ambitions,  they  were  filled  with  But  because  of  men's  own  desire 
the  spirit  of  selfishness,  and  so  they  and  ambition  to  rule,  to  have  au- 
rejected  the  commandments  from  thority,  they  have  usurped  the  pow- 
the  government  the  Lord  had  given  er  and  set  up  their  own  govern- 
them,  and  set  up  governments  of  ments,  and  the  world  from  the  very 
their  own.  And  so  wickedness  beginning  has  been  in  turmoil,  in 
once  more  began  to  prevail  and  trouble,  in  wars,  and  bloodshed,  be- 
spread over  the  face  of  the  earth.  cause  man  would  not  let  his  Father 

in  heaven  rule  him,  but   usurped 

''THE   Lord  called  a  young   man  the  powers  unto  himself. 

out  of  the  land  of  the  Chaldeans  Now  the  purpose  of  this  book  is 

and  said  to  him,  "Because  of  the  to  show  this  whole  history  from  the 

wickedness  of  mankind  I  am  going  beginning  to  the  end,  with  the  pe- 

to  place  my  Priesthood,  my  author-  riods   of   righteousness   when   men 

ity,  on  you,  and  I  am  going  to  make  did  hearken,   and  how   they  were 

covenants  with  you,  and  I  am  going  blessed!    showing    how    the    judg- 


ments  of  the  Almighty  came  upon  It  is  true  that  he  was  left  to  work 

them  when  they  rebelled.    And  it  out,  through  the  use  of  his  facul- 

sets  forth  the  great  work,  the  plan  ties,  many  of  nature's  great  secrets, 

of  our  Father  in  heaven,  in  regard  but  the  Lord   did  not  leave  him 

to  the  destiny  of  the  hunran  family,  helpless,   but   instructed  him,   and 

They  who  are  willing  to  keep  his  he  was  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of  the 

commandments   under  all   circum-  Lord. 

stances  are  eventually  gathered  in-         You  are  told,  and  it  is  also  writ- 

to  his  fold  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  ten  in  so  many  textbooks,  that  men 

over  which  Jesus  Christ,  the  King,  have  come  up  to  the  stage  of  civi- 

shall  rule  and  reign.  lization  which  we  now  possess,  by 

long,  very  long,  periods  of  time 
1UOW,  I  said  that  man  has  always  from  an  age  of  savagery.  This  book 
been  rebellious.  I  want  to  read  will  tell  you  that  the  mental  de- 
to  you  a  few  ideas  from  one  of  these  generacy  and  savagery  which  pre- 
chapters.  The  first  man,  as  I  have  vail  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  and 
said,  was  highly  intelligent.  The  have  prevailed  upon  it,  have  come 
world  doesn't  teach  you  that.  It  through  men's  wickedness.  Man 
teaches  you  that  man  in  the  begin-  was  intelligent  in  the  beginning, 
ning  was  not  intelligent,  that  he  And  there  is  such  a  thing  as  restro- 
developed  from  lower  forms  until  gression  as  well  as  advancement, 
he  reached  the  stage  where  he  could  And  without  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
be  called  a  man  through  his  pro-  man  cannot  progress.  And  we  have 
gression.  The  first  man  placed  up-  seen  that  from  the  beginning,  na- 
on  this  earth  was  an  intelligent  be-  tions  have  risen  to  great  power, 
ing,  created  in  the  image  of  God,  they  have  ruled  the  earth  so  far 
possessed  of  wisdom  and  knowl-  as  they  understood  the  earth,  and 
edge  and  power  to  communicate  his  they  have  decayed.  They  have 
thoughts  in  a  language  both  oral  reached  a  stage  of  civilization  where 
and  written  which  was  superior  to  God  was  forgotten,  where  immoral- 
anything  to  be  found  on  the  earth  ity  took  the  place  of  virtue,  wicked- 
today.  This  may  sound  very  sweep-  ness  and  vice  the  place  of  righteous- 
ing  and  dogmatic  to  those  who  ness,  and  then  the  Lord  has  placed 
hold  to  the  other  view,  but  it  is  not  his  hand  upon  them  and  they  have 
any  more  so  than  their  statement  to  fallen.  That  has  been  the  nature 
the  contrary.  Moreover,  I  do  not  of  man  all  the  way  down  the  ages, 
say  it  myself,  but  merely  repeat  One  man,  in  writing,  saw  this  pic- 
what  the  Lord  has  said,  and,  surely,  ture  very  clearly,  Lord  Byron,  and 
the  Creator,  above  all  others,  ought  he  wrote  after  speaking  of  the  rise 
to  know.  and  ^11  of  peoples  as  he  went  over 
The  first  man  was  instructed  by  the  countries  and  saw  the  ruins 
the  best  teacher  man  ever  had,  for  of  the  glory  of  the  past: 

he  was  taught  by  God  and  spoke  .,,,,,«, 

t.u     i  „   «  ~c  o^  A/r^nj-  u;~"U    ;n  There  is  the  Moral  of  all  human  tales; 

the  language  of  the  Most  High   in  ^  but  ^  same  rehearsal  of  ^  past; 

which    angels    conversed,    this    Ian-  First   Freedom,    and   then   Glory— when 
guage  he   taught   to   his   children.  that  fails, 


Wealth,    vice,    corruption — barbarism    at  that   we   might   avoid    the   pitfalls, 

last-                   ,  ,  the    wickedness,    and    the    destiny 

And  History,  with  all  her  volumes  vast,  ,                   ,                    „*.,•«„  ,,£4.^ 

Hath  but  one  page.  that  nas  overtaken  one  nation  after 

another  clear  down  to  the  end  of 

The  reason  for  writing  these  les-  time      Eventually,   the    Lord   will 

sons  in  the  book  was  to  place  be-  ^       his  Qwn  nati       his  own  ki 

ore  the  members  of  the  Church  *              earth  ^  be  damA 

the  Latter-day  Saints,  an  outline  or  _  .  '         .  .  , 

these   conditions   that   have   come  of  lts  unrighteousness, 

down   through   all   of   these   ages;  Now  I  see  our  time  is  gone,  so  I 

that  we  might  profit  by  the  experi-  will  say  the  Lord  bless  you,  and  I 

ence  of  the  past  and  accept  of  these  hope  that  you  get  some  good  out 

experiences   so    that   we   will    not  of  these  things  that  you  study.    In 

fall  into  the  same  forbidden  ways;  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.    Amen. 

cfaey   vva'tt  and  [Pray 

Ruth  H.  Chadwick 

The  Marys  of  today  walk  hand  in  hand 

With  her  along  those  paths  through  Galilee; 

Alone,  like  her,  they  long  unceasingly 

To  follow  him  across  the  alien  sand. 

They  know  her  emptiness  through  endless  days; 

The  numbed  yet  throbbing  pulse  when  time  stands  still; 

The  grim  imaginings  that  stalk  the  will 

And  choke  resolve  to  walk  with  cheerful  ways. 

They  know  her  helplessness,  her  fierce  desire 

To  spare  her  son  the  treacheries  of  men; 

But  faith,  undaunted,  nurtures  hope  again, 

And  trusting  hearts  defy  the  inner  fire. 

They  wait  and  pray!  Through  him  at  Calvary, 

They  glimpse  the  glory  of  eternity. 

of r tend  of  the  JLord 

Josephine  J.  Harvey 

He  was  the  Prophet  of  the  latter  day, 
Chosen  of  the  Lord  to  lead  his  way. 

Holding  the  keys  of  this  dispensation, 

He  sent  the  everlasting  gospel  forth. 

Living  great,  he  walked  with  courage  to  the  end, 

He  was  a  man  the  Lord  addressed  as  "friend." 

Though  he  was  unlearned  in  the  eyes  of  men, 
He  drank  from  the  fountain  of  eternal  life; 
Through  his  humble  hands,  the  Lord  has  hurled 
The  torch  of  truth  to  light  a  darkened  world1. 

Honor  and  glory  are  his  from  age  to  age, 
Who  lifted  a  lamp  on  history's  page. 

Latter-Day  Saint  Education 
to  Build  Faith 

Elder  Mark  E.  Petersen 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  3,  1951.] 

IT  is  very  important  that  we 
have  an  educational  program  in 
the  Relief  Society.  So  many 
women,  especially  those  who  do  not 
come  to  Relief  Society,  get  the  idea 
that  Relief  Society  is  only  for  the 
relief  of  the  poor;  but  I  am  grateful 
that  we  have  an  educational  pro- 
gram in  this  organization,  because, 
as  the  gospel  teaches: 

Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone. 
The  glory  of  God  is  intelligence. 
It  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  be  saved 
in  ignorance. 

The  Lord  has  commanded  that 
we  become  perfect,  even  as  our 
Father  which  is  in  heaven  is  per- 
fect. If  we  are  going  to  keep  that 
commandment,  we  must,  by  all 
means,  seek  for  wisdom,  knowledge, 
and  light,  and  apply  that  knowl- 
edge, light,  and  wisdom  in  build- 
ing faith,  and  becoming  like  our 
Father  in  heaven. 

It  was  surely  the  intention  of  the 
Lord  that  we  carry  on  an  education- 
al program  in  the  Church.  He 
made  it  clear  in  the  revelations  that 
he  has  given  to  us,  and  I  would  like 
to  read  a  sentence  or  two  from  some 
of  those  revelations.  This  one  par- 
ticularly is  well  known  to  you.  The 
Lord  says: 

As  all  have  not  faith,  seek  ye  diligently 
and  teach  one  another  words  of  wisdom; 

Page  8 

yea,  seek  ye  out  of  the  best  books  words 
of  wisdom;  seek  learning,  even  by  study 
and  also  by  faith.  .  .  .  Appoint  among 
yourselves  a  teacher,  and  let  not  all  be 
spokesmen  at  once;  but  let  one  speak  at 
a  time  and  let  all  listen  unto  his  sayings, 
that  when  all  have  spoken  that  all  may 
be  edified  of  all,  and  that  every  man  may 
have  an  equal  privilege  (D.  &  C.  88: 
118,   122). 

The  Lord  was  not  satisfied  mere- 
ly to  mention  that  principle  once, 
and  so,  at  a  later  time  and  in  still 
another  revelation,  he  repeated  a 
part  of  that  same  injunction,  and 
said  again: 

As  all  have  not  faith,  seek  ye  diligently 
and  teach  one  another  words  of  wisdom. 
Yea,  seek  ye  out  of  the  best  books  words 
of  wisdom;  seek  learning,  even  by  study, 
and  also  by  faith  (D.  &  C.  109:7). 

I  hope  you  notice  in  the  very 
wording  of  that  scripture,  that  the 
big  point  he  has  in  view  in  all  of 
this  study  is  to  build  faith.  He  actual- 
ly uses  the  expression  that  "as  all 
have  not  faith/'  seek  learning,  etc. 

Now  there  are  different  kinds  of 
learning.  Some  education  builds 
faith.  Some  education  destroys 
faith.  It  is  the  objective  of  Latter- 
day  Saint  education,  through  our 
organizations,  to  build  faith  and 
save  souls. 

Education  which  builds  faith  is 
good  education.  Education  which 
destroys  faith  is  bad  education. 


HTHE  Book  of  Mormon  made  this 
clear.  You  remember  the 
ancient  prophet  said,  'To  be  learned 
is  good,  if  they  hearken  unto  the 
counsels  of  God."  But  the  same 
prophet  gave  us  an  example  of  bad 
education,  when  he  said: 

O  the  vainness,  and  the  frailities,  and 
the  foolishness  of  men!  When  they  are 
learned  they  think  they  are  wise,  and 
they  hearken  not  unto  the  counsel  of 
God,  for  they  set  it  aside,  supposing 
they  know  of  themselves,  wherefore,  their 
wisdom  is  foolishness  and  it  profiteth 
them  not.  And  they  shall  perish 
(2  Nephi  9:28). 

Inasmuch  as  we  have  these  two 
kinds  of  education,  bad  and  good, 
the  bad  being  that  which  fails  to 
build  faith,  or  destroys  it,  and  the 
good  being  the  kind  which  actually 
builds  faith,  it  is  for  us  to  select 
the  kind  of  learning  that  will  be 
beneficial  to  us.  We  need  guidance. 

The  Savior  gave  us  the  Holy 
Ghost,  as  you  remember,  to  guide 
us  into  all  truth.  Paul  made  it  very 
clear  in  his  writings  to  the  ancient 
saints,  that  in  their  learning  they 
must  get  the  correct  point  of  view, 
otherwise  their  learning  would  be 
of  no  profit  to  them.  In  fact,  it 
would  be  dangerous  for  them.  But 
he  also  taught  that  we  need  guid- 
ance and  direction,  so  that  we  can 
get  the  right  point  of  view  and  ac- 
quire the  right  knowledge  and  use 
that  knowledge  in  the  proper  way 
to  build  faith. 

And  in  order  to  give  us  this  guid- 
ance, Paul  said  the  Lord  placed  in 
the  Church  some  apostles  and 
prophets,  some  pastors  and  teach- 
ers for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of 
Christ,    for   the   perfecting   of   the 

saints.  And  he  added  that  this 
guidance  was  provided  so  that  we 
would  henceforth  be  no  more  chil- 
dren tossed  to  and  fro,  and  carried 
about  with  every  wind  of  doctrine, 
by  the  sleight  of  men  and  cunning 
craftiness,  whereby  they  lie  in  wait 
to  deceive. 

Then  he  said  this  very,  very  im- 
portant thing,  which  I  think  is 
pertinent  to  us  at  this  time: 

I  say  therefore  .  .  .  walk  not  as  other 
Gentiles  walk,  in  the  vanity  of  their 
mind,  having  the  understanding  darkened, 
being  alienated  from  the  life  of  God 
through  the  ignorance  that  is  in  them, 
because  of  the  blindness  of  their  heart 
.  .  .   (Eph.  4:17-18) . 

So  Paul  here  presents  the  idea,  as 
I  interpret  his  scripture  at  least,  that 
Gentile  education,  which  fails  to 
build  faith,  actually  is  a  system  of 
ignorance,  it  is  a  system  of  blind- 
ness, it  is  a  system  which  alienates 
people  from  the  way  of  God.  And 
if  we  indulge  only  in  this  Gentile 
education  and  fail  to  mix  it  with 
faith  in  God,  it  is  blindness  and 
ignorance  to  us  and  will  alienate  us 
from  the  Lord. 

Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  Paul 
warned  the  people  against  that  kind 
of  education? 

The  wisdom  of  man  is  indeed 
foolishness  to  God,  and  again  may 
I  read  what  Nephi  said: 

To  be  learned  is  good  if  they  hearken 
unto  the  counsels  of  God.  O  that  cun- 
ning plan  of  the  evil  one!  O  the  vainness, 
and  the  frailties  and  the  foolishness  of 
men!  When  they  are  learned  they  think 
they  are  wise,  and  they  hearken  not  unto 
the  counsel  of  God,  for  they  set  it 
aside,  supposing  they  know  of  themselves 
(2  Nephi  9:29,  28) . 


That  is  bad  education,  and  yet  and    tried.      But    then    there    are 

there   are   many   Latter-day   Saints  those  pseudo-scientists  who  prefer 

who  indulge  in  it.  to  take  their  point  of  view  from 

theories  and  hypotheses,  and  guess- 

TT  is  an  easy  thing  to  get  the  wrong  work  of  some  who  think  they  are 

point  of  view  as  we  study.    It  is  making  wise  deductions  from  facts, 

an  easy  thing  to  get  off  on  the  wrong  So    one    may    have    whatsoever 

track.      In    our    formal    education,  point  of  view  he  likes,  I  suppose, 

we  have  had  many  instances  where  But  it  is  our  responsibility  as  teach- 

people  have   done  so.     We   even  ers  in  the  Church  to  get  the  point 

have  had  returned  missionaries  go  of   view   in   education   which   will 

to  college  and  have  their  faith  de-  build  and  develop  faith, 

stroyed  because   the  education   of  I  remember  a  wonderful  tribute 

the    Gentiles    blinded    them    and  that  was  paid  not  long  ago  to  Dr. 

alienated  them   "from  the  life  of  Carl  Eyring  of  the  Brigham  Young 

God,"  to  use  the  words  of  Paul.  University.    Brother  Eyring,  an  out- 

When  we  get  that  kind  of  educa-  standing  teacher  of  science,  stood 

tion  it  is  indeed  blindness  and  fool-  before  his  class  with  scientific  in- 

ishness,  and  it  is  destructive  of  our  formation,  and  what  did  he  do  with 

faith  in  God.  it?    He  built  up  a  point  of  view  in 

We    might    study    government,  the  minds  of  the  students  that  these 

also,  and  in  that  field  what  could  scientific  facts  demonstrate  beyond 

we   do?     We   might   study  good,  a  doubt  that  God  lives,  that  he  is 

solid  Americanism,  or  we  might  be  the  Creator,  that  he  is  an  intelli- 

trained  in  Communism.    There  are  gent  Being,  and  that  man  is  the 

many  in  America  who  have  been  ^j^  0£  q0(j 

blinded  by  the  cunning  craftiness  '                    '  ^  ^^ 

of  men,  and  now  are  beginning  to  l          .     ■ 

choose    the    blackness    of    Com-  who  would  take  similar  data  and 

munism  instead  of  the  light  of  true  teach  that  there  1S  no  God- 
Americanism.  Again,  what  point  of  view  are 

The  same  thing  is  true  in  the  we  seeking  in  our  education?  What 
field  of  religion.  We  might  study  are  we  seeking  to  build?  We  must 
the  restored  gospel  of  Christ  which  build  faith,  because  that  is  the  re- 
saves,  or  if  we  are  blinded  by  the  sponsibility  of  this  Church, 
craftiness  of  men,  we  might  prefer  We  are  face  to  face  with  two 
the  doctrines  of  uninspired  teach-  great  needs.  One  is  on  the  part 
ers  so  condemned  by  the  Savior  in  0f  the  person  who  learns,  the  other 
his  first  appearance  to  the  Prophet  0n  the  part  of  the  person  who 
Joseph  Smith.  teaches.    The  student  must  be  wise 

There  are  different  points  of  view  in   selecting  the  kind   of   training 

among  scientists.  Some  are  willing  which  will  give  to  him  or  her  the 

to   accept   only   the   demonstrated  right  point   of  view  and   help   to 

truth,  actual  facts  that  are  proved  build  faith  in  God. 

LATTER-DAY  SAINT  EDUCATION  TO  BUILD  FAITH                                                             11 

^HE  teacher  must  be  willing  to  lesson  courses  which  are  well  plan- 
uphold  her  Church  responsi-  ned  and  well  thought  out,  with  the 
bility  to  promote  faith.  We  must  one  idea  in  mind  of  giving  to  the. 
remember  that  just  as  bad  kings  in  women  of  the  Church  the  proper 
ancient  times  taught  wickedness  to  point  of  view  in  education.  Our 
their  people,  a  teacher  today  who  lesson  course  is  designed  to  do 
loves  the  wisdom  of  man  more  than  what  Nephi  said  "to  provide  edu- 
the  wisdom  of  God,  is  in  a  position  cation  and  learning,  with  faith." 
where  he  or  she  can  actually  lead  We  expect  that  all  who  teach  in 
people  astray,  and  establish  in  their  the  Relief  Society  organization  will 
minds  a  false  understanding  of  the  use  the  information  at  hand  to  de- 
truth,  and  direct  their  thinking  in  velop  a  point  of  view  in  the  minds 
dangerous  paths.  of  the  women  in  this  Church  which 

Great  is  the  responsibility  of  the  will  lead  them  into  faith,  and  from 

teacher.    A  teacher  must  promote  faith  into  righteous  works,  that  their 

faith.  If  she  does,  all  is  well,  but  if  souls  may  be  saved, 

she  does  not,   great  harm  results.  That  we  may  have  that  point  of 

You  remember  that  the  Savior  said  view  and  that  we  may  teach  faith 

at  one  time,  "Whosoever  therefore  and  use  all  of  the  knowledge  and 

shall  break  one  of  these  least  com-  information   that   comes   into   our 

mandments   and   shall   teach   men  hands  for  the  purpose  of  saving  and 

so,  he  shall  be  called  the  least  in  enlightening  our  people,  I  humbly 

the  kingdom  of  God."  pray  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 

In   the   Relief  Society  we  have  Amen. 


Maryhale  WocJsey 

Here  on  my  dark  glove  resting  transiently, 
Behold  a  masterpiece  of  mystery: 
Fragment  of  cloud,  star-cut  and  whitest  white, 
Gentle  as  thistledown  in  lazy  flight  .... 

More  fragile  than  an  orchid's  tender  petals; 
More  delicately  patterned  than  old  lace; 
Vanishing  at  a  touch,  a  breath — and  leaving 
A  glint  of  moisture  as  its  only  trace. 

Yet  soon  its  myraid  sisters  from  the  sky 
Will  overwhelm  the  hills;  the  fields  will  lie 
Vanquished — discovering  in  this  frail  ice-flower, 
Winter's  ethereal  beauty  .  .  .  and  winter's  power! 

J^Lward    vi/tnaers 

ibitza  Lri.  o/2ow  [Poem   (contest 

HPHE  Relief  Society  general  board 
is  pleased  to  announce  the 
names  of  the  three  prize  winners  in 
the  1951  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Con- 
test. This  contest  was  announced 
in  the  June  1951  issue  of  the  Maga- 
zine, and  closed  September  15,  1951. 
The  first  prize  of  twenty-five  dol- 
lars is  awarded  to  Sylvia  Probst 
Young,  Midvale,  Utah,  for  her  poem 
"Shine  Softly,  Stars." 

The  second  prize  of  twenty  dol- 
lars is  awarded  to  Iris  W.  Schow, 
Brigham  City,  Utah,  for  her  poem 

The  third  prize  of  fifteen  dollars 
is  awarded  to  Mabel  Law  Atkinson, 
Dayton,  Idaho,  for  her  poem  "Bar- 
ren Woman's  Cry." 

This  poem  contest  has  been  con- 
ducted annually  by  the  Relief  So- 
ciety general  board  since  1924,  in 
honor  of  Eliza  R.  Snow,  second  gen- 
eral president  of  Relief  Society,  a 
gifted  poet  and  beloved  leader. 

The  contest  is  open  to  all  Latter- 
day  Saint  women,  and  is  designed  to 
encourage  poetry  writing,  and  to  in- 
crease appreciation  for  creative  writ- 
ing and  the  beauty  and  value  of 

Prize-winning  poems  are  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Relief  Society  general 
board,  and  may  not  be  used  for  pub- 
lication by  others  except  upon  writ- 
ten permission  of  the  general  board. 
The  general  board  also  reserves  the 
right  to  publish  any  of  the  poems 
submitted,  paying  for  them  at  the 
time  of  publication  at  the  regular 
Magazine  rate.    A  writer  who  has 

Page  12 

received  the  first  prize  for  two  con- 
secutive years  must  wait  two  years 
before  she  is  again  eligible  to  enter 
the  contest. 

There  were  one  hundred  twelve 
poems  submitted  in  this  year's  con- 
test. Many  of  the  poems  submitted 
this  year  revealed  beauty  of  thought, 
and  nearly  all  the  subjects  of  the 
entries  were  based  upon  a  significant 
and  timely  theme. 

Twenty  states,  Mexico,  and  the 
Dominion  of  Canada  were  repre- 
sented in  this  year's  contest,  the 
largest  number  of  entries'  coming 
from  Utah,  with  twelve  from  Cali- 
fornia, twelve  from  Idaho,  eight 
from  Arizona,  six  from  Canada, 
three  from  Mexico,  and  three  from 
New  Mexico,  with  two  each  from 
the  following  states:  Florida,  Massa- 
chusetts, Minnesota,  and  Montana. 

None  of  the  women  who  received 
awards  in  this  year's  Eliza  R.  Snow 
Poem  Contest  has  previously  re- 
ceived an  award  in  this  contest,  al- 
though all  are  contributors  to  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine.  The  gen- 
eral board  congratulates  the  prize 
winners  and  expresses  appreciation 
to  all  entrants  for  their  interest  in 
the  contest. 

The  general  board  wishes,  also,  to 
thank  the  judges  for  their  care  and 
diligence  in  selecting  the  prize-win- 
ning poems.  The  services  of  the 
poetry  committee  of  the  general 
board  are  very  much  appreciated. 

The  prize-winning  poems,  togeth- 
er with  photographs  and  biographi- 
cal sketches  of  the  prize-winning 
contestants,  are  published  herewith. 

[Prize  -  vi/ti 


inning  proems 

(bliza   Lf\oxet{  Snow    1 1 iemortal  [Poem    Contest 

First  Prize  Poem 

Shine  Softly,  Stars 

Sylvia  Piobst  Young 

Shine  softly,  little  lamps  of  night, 

O  silvery  stars,  shine  down, 

The  crescent  moon  is  pale  and  white, 

And  out  from  Bethlehem  town, 

Across  the  cool,  dark  desert  sand 

A  small  beast  moves  along, 

Safe  guided  by  his  master's  hand, 

While  night  winds  hum  a  song. 

Shine  softly,  stars,  a  mother  keeps 
Her  vigil,  here  at  rest 
The  baby  rides  and  gently  sleeps 
Soft  pillowed  to  her  breast. 

She  knows  his  eyes  are  heaven  blue, 
Her  fingers  touch  his  hair, 
His  lips  are  fresh  as  morning  dew, 
His  petal  cheek  how  fair. 

Oh,  mother,  hold  him  while  you  may. 

Love  guard  you  tenderly, 

How  torn  with  grief  shall  be  the  way, 

That  leads  to  Calvary. 

Shine  softly,  stars,  pale  moon  hang  low, 

Oh,  winds  of  night,  be  mild, 

Bright  angels  mark  the  way  they  go, 

And  keep  this  little  child. 

Page  13 



IKIb  W.  bCHUW 

Second  Prize  Poem 


his  W.  Schow 

Oh,  never  think  of  words  as  merely  words: 
They  are  the  essence  kept  from  quiet  lives; 
Eternal  jewels  set  in  tender  looks 
And  offered  as  a  pledge  of  lasting  love. 
Words  are  a  coverlet  a  mother  weaves 
To  warm  her  child  and  keep  a  harsh  world  out; 
The  kernels  gleaned  from  fire-wasted  lands; 
The  moving  lips  of  seers  whose  flesh  is  dust. 
They  are  the  courage  of  a  patriot 
Become  a  torch  to  pass  from  mind  to  mind. 
Words  stand  like  guideposts  by  a  narrow  way; 
They  are  an  indestructible,  tight  cord 
From  earth  to  heaven  by  way  of  Sinai, 
A  groping  hand  may  firmly  grasp  to  guide 
A  pair  of  plodding  feet. 

Words  are  the  means 
By  which  the  very  thinking  of  our  Lord, 
Leaping  like  sparks  from  flint,  out  of  our  hearts, 
Can  rise  to  kindle  light  in  troubled  minds. 




Third  Prize  Poem 

{Barren   vi/oman  s  Cr*/ 

Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

0  mothers,  you  whose  sons  are  called  to  war, 
The  cruel  talons  also  tear  my  soul. 

Your  boys  return  to  wear  a  battle  scar, 
Are  maimed  and  wounded;  are  not  spirit-whole. 
And  you,  who  mourn  a  grave  in  foreign  earth 
Beneath  white  crosses,  gleaming  row  on  row, 
On  reverent  knees  give  thanks  that  you  gave  birth 
To  sons  who  bid  democracy  to  grow. 

1  share  with  you  the  yearning  for  God's  grace, 
Beseeching  him  to  reach  to  warring  zones. 
Could  I  have  known  a  soldier-son's  embrace, 
My  heart  would  sing  above  its  anguished  moans. 
You  walk  in  tears  the  path  that  Mary  trod, 

But  hear  my  cry:  Would  that  I  might,  O  God! 

JrLward  Vi/itiaers 

Jxnnual  [Relief  Society  Short  Story  (contest 

HPHE  Relief  Society  general  board  Thirty-three  manuscripts  were 
is  pleased  to  announce  the  submitted  in  the  contest  for  1951. 
award  winners  in  the  Annual  Relief  Most  of  the  stories  entered  in  the 
Society  Short  Story  Contest  which  contest  were  well  written  and  re- 
was  announced  in  the  June  1951  veded  thoughtfui  construction  and 
issue  of  the  Magazine,  and  which  carefu]  techni 
closed  September  ic   i(Ki.  r^,                           .   .  .      , 

The  first  prize  of  fifty  dollars  is  The  c°ntest  was  initiated  to  en- 
awarded  to  Mabel  S.  Harmer,  Salt  coura§e  Latter-day  Saint  women  to 
Lake  City,  Utah,  for  her  story  fPress  themselves  m  the  field  of 
"Eloise  and  the  Indian "  fiction.     The   general   board   feels 

The  second  prize  of  forty  dollars  that  the  resPonse  to  this  opportunity 

is    awarded    to    Blanche    Kendall  continues   to   increase   the  literary 

McKey,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,"  for  °luallty  °f  ™e  ^eIJf f  Society  ***&' 

her  story  "No  Tears,  Beloved."  ™e>  a*d  W1111  a'd  *e  women  ?f  *e 

The  third  prize  of  thirty  dollars  C^rch  m  the  development  of  their 

is  awarded  to  Margery  S.  "Stewart,  §lfts  in  creatlve  wnting' 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  for  her  story  The    Rehei    Society    Magazine 

"The  Least  of  These."  now    has    a    circulation    of    over 

All  three  winners  in  this  year's  100,000  subscribers,  thus  giving  the 

contest  have  written   many  excel-  work  of  its  authors  a  large  number  of 

lent  stories  for  The  Relief  Society  interested  and  appreciative  readers. 

Magazine,  and  are  well  known  con-  There  are  subscribers  in  every  state 

tributors  to  other  magazines  of  wide  in  the  Union,  and  in  Alaska,  Ha- 

circulation.     All  of  the  prize  win-  waii,    Canada,    Mexico,    Australia, 

ning  authors  have  received  awards  England,  France,  Germany,  South 

in    previous    Relief    Society    Short  America,  and  in  many  other  coun- 

Story  Contests.  tries.     Writers,     recognizing     this 

This  contest,  first  conducted  by  large  and  varied  audience,  realize 

the  Relief  Society  general  board  in  the  importance  of  entering  in  the 

1941,  as  a  feature  of  the  Relief  So-  contest  their  very  best  work, 

ciety    centennial    observance,    was  The  general  board  congratulates 

made  an  annual  contest  in  1942. The  the  prize-winning  contestants,  and 

contest  is  open  only  to  Latter-day  expresses  appreciation  for  all  those 

Saint  women  who  have  had  at  least  who     submitted     stories.     Sincere 

one  literary  composition  published  gratitude  is  extended  to  the  judges 

or  accepted   for  publication   by   a  for  their  discernment  and  skill  in 

periodical  of  recognized  merit.  selecting  the  prize-winning  stories. 

The  three  prize-winning  stories  The  general  board  also  acknowledg- 
will  be  published  consecutively  in  es,  with  appreciation,  the  work  of 
the  first  three  issues  of  The  Relief  the  short  story  committee  in  super- 
Society  Magazine  for  1952.  vising  the  contest. 

Page  16 

{Biographical  Sketches  of  Jxward  VUtnners 

in  the  (bliza  u\.  Snow  [Poem  Contest 

ana  the  [Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest 

Sylvia  Probst  Young,  Midvale,  Utah,  is  the  wife  of  Reid  W.  Young,  and  the  mother 
of  four  sons.  Her  name  is  already  familiar  to  Relief  Society  Magazine  readers  who  have 
enjoyed  her  stories:  "We  Are  So  Busy"  (March  1949);  "That  Monson  Kid"  (April 
1950);  "A  Star  Is  Shining"  (November  1950);  "Polly  Played  for  Keeps"  (June  1951); 
and  "A  Vacation  for  Mother"  (July  1951).  Two  of  her  poems  have  also  been 
published  in   the  Magazine. 

Sister  Young  informs  us  that  writing  has  always  been  an  important  part  of  her 
life.  "I  have  written  poetry  and  stories  for  all  of  the  Church  magazines,  The  Deseret 
News,  Utah  Magazine,  the  anthology,  Utah  Sings,  and  a  national  anthology.  While 
in  the  California  Mission  I  had  the  privilege  of  being  editor  of  the  mission  magazine, 
The  Calimis." 

V         ^r         V         ^r 

Iris  W.  Schow,  daughter  of  Elmer  C.  and  Eleanor  Welch  Schow,  Brigham  City, 
Utah,  is  a  graduate  of  the  Utah  State  Agricultural  College  at  Logan,  Utah.  At  present 
she  is  a  teacher  in  the  Central  School,  Brigham  City. 

A  number  of  her  poems  have  been  published  in  The  Relief  Society  Magazine,  and 
others  have  appeared  in  The  Deseret  News,  The  Improvement  Era,  and  in  several 
poetry  magazines.  She  is  active  as  an  officer  and  teacher  in  the  auxiliary  organizations 
of  the  Church,  being  now  a  teacher  of  the  junior  class  in  Sunday  School. 

She  is  a  member  of  the  Box  Elder  chapter  of  the  National  League  of  American 
Pen  Women,  and  also  a  member  of  The  Writer's  Realm,  the  Box  Elder  Chapter 
of  the  League  of  Utah  Writers. 

^f         ^f         ^r         ^r 

Mabel  Law  Atkinson,'  of  Dayton,  Idaho,  has  already  been  represented  by  several 
excellent  poems  in  The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  Two  years  ago  she  began  to  study 
the  technique  of  poetry  writing  at  home  and  has  received  awards  in  several  poetry 
contests  during  the  past  year.  Her  first  poems  were  published  in  The  Juvenile  Instructor 
when  she  was  a  child.  She  is  a  member  of  Midwest  Chaparral  Poets,  Modern  Bards, 
Avalon,  and  Word  Weavers. 

The  wife  of  Earl  J.  Atkinson,  she  is  the  mother  of  four  living  children  and  grand- 
mother to  three  little  grandsons.  A  son  is  now  serving  a  mission  in  the  Central  Atlantic 
States.  Mrs.  Atkinson  tells  us  that  her  life  "has  been  filled  to  the  brim  with  the  joys 
of  motherhood,  schoolteaching,  Church,  and  community  service." 

Mabel  S.  Harmer,  of  Salt  Lake  City  is  well  known  to  Relief  Society  Magazine  readers 
for  her  serial  stories,  "The  Lotus  Eater"  (1937-38)  and  "For  the  Strength  of  the  Hills" 
(1951),  as  well  as  for  her  many  excellent  short  stories  which  have  appeared  in  the 
Magazine  since  1933.  Her  story  "The  Pink  Angel"  was  awarded  third  prize  in  the 
Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest  in  1944.  Mrs.  Harmer  has  had  five  books  published 
and  is  the  author  of  numerous  plays,  articles,  poems,  and  stories  which  have  been  pub- 
lished in  national  magazines.  She  is  state  president  of  the  League  of  Utah  Writers 
and  for  the  past  four  years  has  written  a  daily  children's  story  for  The  Deseret  News, 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah.  ' 

Mrs.  Harmer,  wife  of  Earl  W.  Harmer,  is  the  mother  of  five  children,  and  she 
has  four  grandchildren.  She  has  held  many  executive  positions  in  the  auxiliary  organi- 
zations of  the  Church  and  is  generous  with  her  time  and  talents  in  assisting  in  enter- 
tainments and  programs  in  her  ward  and  stake. 

Page  17 

Lrnze-vl/ inning  Story 

J/lnnual  [Relief  Society  Snort  Story  Contest 

First  Prize  Story 

Eloise  and  the  Indian 

Mabel  S.  Harmer 

ELOISE  always  said  that  she 
had  been  brought  up  on  the 
story  of  Grandmother  Jason 
and  the  Indian,  along  with  lemon 
pie  on  Tuesday  and  the  semi-annual 
visit  to  Dr.  Stokes,  the  family 

While  she  was  still  young  enough 
to  be  carried  up  to  bed  on  her  fa- 
ther's shoulder,  she  remembered 
shivering  delightedly  at  the  story 
of  how  Grandma  Jason  had  been 
alone  in  her  cabin,  with  only  her 
two  babies,  when  the  Indian  came 
demanding  food  and  threatening 
to  kill  her  if  she  didn't  give  him 

Grandma  had  had  no  biscuit  that 
day.  At  least,  none  to  give  away. 
But  she  did  have  Grandpa's  rifle, 
and  she  had  plenty  of  courage. 
Armed  with  both,  she  had  driven 
the  Indian  away  from  the  house. 
Nor  was  that  the  end  of  the  story. 
Later  she  had  walked  six  miles 
through  the  snow  in  order  to  take 
some  medicine  to  the  Indian's  sick 
child.  According  to  family  legend, 
there  never  had  been  anyone  quite 
like  Grandma  Jason. 

A  wave  both  of  envy  and  admira- 
tion for  the  grand  old  lady  swept 
through  Eloise  as  she  came  down 
the  stairway  preparatory  to  a  call 
on  Jim  Booker.    She  glanced  in  the 

Page  18 


dining  room  where  Davy,  her  six- 
teen-year-old son,  was  spreading  out 
model  airplane  parts  over  the  table. 
"Be  sure  to  have  everything  cleared 
up  in  plenty  of  time  for  lunch,"  she 
reminded  him. 

"Okay,  Mum.  Where're  you  go- 
ing?" he  asked,  scarcely  glancing  up 
from  his  work. 

"I'm  going  to  call  on  an  Indian," 
she  replied,  and  walked  out  before 
he  had  recovered  from  his  surprise 
enough  to  ask  further  details. 

As  she  closed  the  screen  door  be- 
hind   her    she    thought    grimly,    I 


wish   that   I   had   inherited   grand-  usual  type  of  caller  at  all."    Aloud 

mother's    courage    instead    of    her  she    asked    pleasantly,    "Will    you 

black  hair.     I'm  going  to  need  an  please  ask  Mr.  Booker  if  I  may  see 

extra     supply     rather    badly,     I'm  him?" 

afraid.  "Sure,"  replied  the  girl,  lifting 
David  had  left  the  car  home  for  the  phone.  "A  lady  to  see  you,  Mr. 
her  use  that  day,  but  she  decided  Booker,"  she  stated,  then  turned 
to  walk  anyway.  "It  will  give  me  and  nodded  in  the  direction  of  the 
more  time  to  get  organized  and  de-  door,  "Go  on  in." 
cide  what  method  of  attack  Fm  go- 
ing to  use,"  she  told  herself,  know-  "PLOISE  opened  the  door  herself 
ing  all  the  time  that  the  real  reason  and  walked  into  the  inner  of- 
was  it  would  delay  her  talk  for  at  fice.  Mr.  Booker  half  rose  from  his 
least  another  twenty  minutes.  chair,  evidently  surprised  to  see  that 

She  hadn't  known  that  the  six  his  caller  really  was  a  lady, 

city   blocks    could   be   covered    in  "Sit  down,  Ma'am,"  he  said  with 

so  short  a  time.    I  really  ought  to  some  slight  embarrassment,  which 

walk  to  town  oftener,  she  thought,  helped  in  some  small  degree  to  put 

as  she  paused  before  the  red  brick  her  at  her  ease.    Then,  seeming  to 

building    where    Jim    Booker    had  spread  over  as  much  of  his  chair 

his  modest  office.     In  the  narrow  as  possible,  he  asked,  "What  can  I 

hallway  she  looked  on  the  directory  do  for  you?" 

for  his   name  and   office  number.  "I    am    Mrs.    David    Reynolds," 

There  it  was,  Jim  Booker,  Fire  In-  she  stated,  "and  live  at  987  Linden 

surance,  145.    Precious  little  fire  in-  Avenue.    I've  heard  that  you  intend 

surance  he  sold,  if  rumor  was  true,  to  put  up  a  tavern  on  the  corner  of 

Or  at  least  it  was  a  very  minor  part  Ninth  Street  and  Linden.    Is  that 

of  his  business  activities.     But,  of  so?" 

course,  it  sounded  much  more  re-  "Well,  now,  I  wouldn't  call  it  a 

spectable  than  "Taverns,  Inc.,"  or  tavern     exactly,"     replied     Booker 

whatever  he  might  call  his  other  slowly.     "Just.  a  sort  of  soft  drink 

enterprises.  parlor." 

One  forty-five.     That  would  be  "Is  your  license  for  soft  drinks 

on  the  second  floor.     She  climbed  only?" 

the  stairs  slowly,  the  butterflies  in  "Well,  no— not  exactly,  but—" 

her  stomach  becoming  more  lively  "That's  what  I  understood,"  she 

with  every  step  upward.    She  wished  interrupted.    Then,  leaning  forward 

that  he  really  was  an   Indian  and  a  trifle,  she  went  on  seriously,  "Mr. 

that  she  could  take  after  him  with  Booker,  I'd  like  to  ask  you  not  to 

a  rifle.    She  believed,  on  the  whole,  put  it  there." 

it  would  be  much  more  simple.  He  gave  a  grunt  of  surprise  as 

There   was   a   girl   at   the   desk,  he   said   with   a   half   smile,   "You 

pretty    in    spite    of   her    too-heavy  would?      I    guess    you    know    that 

makeup,  who  looked  at  Eloise  with  that  corner  is  zoned  for  business, 

surprised     eyebrows.     To     herself  and  I  have  every  right  to  put  in  a 

Eloise  said,  "I  daresay  I'm  not  the  little  place  there." 



Eloise  nodded.  "Yes,  I  know 
that  you  have  every  legal  right." 
She  didn't  add  that  it  had  probably 
been  obtained  through  questionable 
means  and  influence.  "But  what 
about  the  moral  right?  Doesn't  that 
count  at  all  with  you?" 

"Moral  right.  Don't  know  what 
you  mean."  He  opened  a  drawer, 
ruffled  some  papers,  and  shut  it 

"Surely  you  must  realize  what  it 
will  mean  to  the  young  boys  of  the 
neighborhood  to  have  that  kind  of 
a  place  so  handy.  Perhaps  most  of 
them  will  never  step  inside— at  least, 
for  nothing  more  than  a  soft  drink, 
but  it  spoils  the  atmosphere  of  the 
neighborhood.  It  means  having 
noisy  people  around  at  all  hours.  It 
opens  up  the  way  for  similar  estab- 
lishments. It—"  Eloise  paused. 
She  didn't  want  to  make  him  too 
angry.  That  would  hurt  more  than 
it  would  help. 

"Bunk,"  he  snapped.  "This  isn't 
going  to  be  a  low-class  joint.  It's 
even  going  to  have  a  classy  name. 
The  Blue  Peacock,"  he  announced 

"It  doesn't  sound  very  classy  to 
me,"  retorted  Eloise,  her  indigna- 
tion getting  the  better  of  her  resolve 
to  be  diplomatic.  "And  it  may  not 
be  a  joint,  but  it's  bound  to  have 
a  bad  influence  just  the  same." 

"Sorry,  lady,  but  you're  just  wast- 
ing time.  Your  neighborhood  and 
kids  aren't  any  better  than  any  oth- 
ers. And  I  got  things  to  do."  A  frown 
settled  upon  his  heavy  features,  and 
he  opened  another  drawer. 

Eloise  felt  defeat  coming  on. 
What  could  one  do  with  a  man 
who  wouldn't  listen  to  reason? 
Maybe  one  could  use  a  rifle.     She 

stood  up  and  came  over  to  his  desk. 
"I'm  not  going  to  give  in  without 
a  struggle,"  she  said  determinedly. 
"If  you  don't  withdraw  your  permit 
I'm  going  to  circulate  a  petition  all 
over  the  district.  I'll  fight  this 
through  every  organization  in  town. 
I'm  not  going  to  have  my  boys  grow 
up  within  earshot  of  a  tavern."  Her 
hands  were  clenched,  and  she  wore 
what  David  called  "her  fighting 
Marine  look." 

Jim  Booker  leaned  back  and 
smiled  indulgently.  "You  got  spunk, 
lady,"  he  said.  "But  it's  no  use. 
That  corner  suits  my  purpose  to  a 
T,  and  that's  where  I'm  going  to  put 
The  Blue  Peacock.  You  can  tell 
your  boys  to  keep  away  from  the 
place  if  you  like,  or  you  can  move." 

There  was  nothing  left  for  her  to 
do  at  the  moment  but  turn  and 
walk  out.  She  left  the  building  and 
walked  down  the  street,  her  eyes 
brimming  with  tears  of  defeat.  The 
old  ogre!  Why  couldn't  he  keep 
his  taverns  downtown?  Of  course 
they  could  move,  but  they  loved 
their  home.  And  what  of  the  oth- 
ers? Everyone  in  the  neighborhood 
couldn't  move.  She  wasn't  going 
to  stand  for  it.  She'd  fight  with 
every  means  in  her  power.  She'd 
make  up  petitions  and  get  some  of 
the  other  women  to  help  take  them 
around.  It  might  help.  It  might 
even  be  enough  to  turn  the  trick. 

HPHAT  evening  when  the  boys  had 
gone  to  bed  and  David  was 
lying  on  the  divan  with  a  newspaper 
over  his  eyes,  she  asked,  "How  much 
influence  does  Jim  Booker  have  in 
this  town?" 

"Too  much,  honey,"  he  replied 
drowsily,  "Why?" 



"I  went  to  see  him  today?" 

"You  what?"  -The  newspaper 
was  snatched  off  and  he  sat  bolt  up- 
right. "You  mean  to  sit  there  knit- 
ting in  that  rose-colored  chair  and 
tell  me  to  my  face  that  you  went 
calling  on  that  lug?" 

Eloise  carefully  purled  two  and 
then  nodded,  "I  do  and  I  did." 

"What  for?" 

"To  try  and  talk  him  out  of  put- 
ting in  a  tavern  on  our  corner." 

"And  did  he  bow  and  say,  'Ex- 
cuse me,  Mrs.  Reynolds,  for  even 
presuming  to  think  of  sullying  your 
charming  neighborhood?" 

"Not  exactly,"  she  admitted. 
"What  he  said  in  effect  was,  'Get 
the  heck  out  of  here.  Ill  do  as  I 
like/  "  The  needles  flew  for  a  mo- 
ment and  then  stopped.  "I'm  plan- 
ning to  circulate  petitions,"  she  an- 
nounced. The  seriousness  of  Dav- 
id's look  surprised  her,  and  she 
asked,  "What's  the  matter?  Don't 
you  think  that  I  should  fight  it?" 

"Yeah,  I  reckon,"  he  answered 

"Why  all  the  enthusiasm?"  she 

"I  was  just  thinking  that  Booker 
can  fight  back  awfully  hard  if  he 
takes  a  notion." 

"Does  that  matter— when  the 
boys'  best  interests  are  at  stake?" 

"No,  of  course  not.  The  kids 
are  a  lot  more  important  than  any- 
thing else.  I  just  wanted  to  warn 
you  that  Jim  Booker  is  an  awful 
tough  customer." 

"I  know.  I  figured  that  much 
out  all  by  myself."  She  folded  up 
her  knitting  and  added,  "He  may 
find  out  that  he's  dealing  with  an- 
other tough  customer." 

Later  she  lay  awake  watching  the 

ruffles  of  the  white  organdy  cur- 
tains blow  back  and  forth  and  won- 
dering if  she  had  tackled  more  than 
she  could  manage.  David  had 
shown  a  surprising  lack  of  enthus- 
iasm. There  had  even  been  an  air 
of  concern.  It's  just  that  he  doesn't 
want  me  to  get  mixed  up  with  any 
Indians,  she  thought  drowsily.  I'm 
not  sure  but  what  Grandma  had  it 
a  lot  easier.  All  she  had  to  do  was 
pick  up  a  rifle  and  say  "Git." 

T^HE  next  day  she  wrote  out  a 
petition,  wording  it  as  strongly 
as  she  could,  and  made  out  seven 
copies.  She  would  go  to  some 
woman  she  knew  on  each  of  the 
blocks  nearest  the  corner  of  Ninth 
and  Linden  and  ask  her  to  take  it 
around.  If  necessary,  she  would 
take  them  herself. 

She  had  just  finished  when  Bud 
stuck  his  head  in  the  door  to  ask, 
"Shall  we  put  up  our  own  lunch, 
or  would  you  rather?" 

It  took  her  a  few  minutes  to  re- 
member that  the  boys  had  planned 
a  hike  up  to  Mt.  Rowan. 

"I  would  much  rather,"  she 
smiled,  "but  I  haven't  time.  Go 
ahead  and  be  as  considerate  of  my 
refrigerator  as  you  can.  There  are 
bananas  in  the  cupboard  and  a  fresh 
batch  of  cookies  in  the  jar." 

She  went  upstairs  to  dress,  put 
the  eight  petitions  carefully  in  her 
bag,  and  went  back  down  again 
while  the  boys  were  still  making 
sandwiches.  "Merciful  goodness!" 
she  exclaimed.  "Is  the  National 
Guard  going  along  on  this  hike?" 

"Gosh,  no,"  replied  Bud.  "Just 
Ralph,  Book,  and  us." 

"Book?"  she  repeated  with  a  puz- 



zled  smile.  'Who  in  the  world  is 

"Steve  Booker,  a  guy  we  know  at 

The  smile  vanished.  "Any  rela- 
tion to  Jim  Booker?" 

"I  reckon.  Sure,  he's  his  son. 
But  Steve's  okay.  You'd  like  him." 
Bud  closed  the  discussion  by  put- 
ting the  last  of  the  sandwiches  in 
the  box  and  going  out  to  whistle 
for  Davy. 

Eloise  stood  still  for  a  minute. 
In  spite  of  Bud's  assurance,  she 
wasn't  at  all  sure  that  she  would 
like  Steve  Booker  or  that  he  was 
even  okay.  Maybe  she  was  tackling 
this  problem  at  the  wrong  end. 
Well,  it  was  too  late  to  do  anything 
about  the  hike  now.  She'd  go  on 
with  what  she  had  started.  She  took 
a  glass  of  milk  and  a  cookie  and 
went  on  her  way. 

She  met  her  first  defeat  almost  at 
once.  Mrs.  Rossiter,  a  thin,  nervous 
woman,  fidgeted  about  and  finally 
come  out  and  said  that  she  didn't 
care  to  brush  up  against  Jim  Book- 
er. He  had  too  much  influence  in 

"But  surely  his  influence  couldn't 
affect  you  in  any  way,  could  it?" 
Eloise  insisted. 

"You  don't  ever  know,"  replied 
Mrs.  Rossiter  darkly.  "You  know 
what  he  did  to  Frank  Bitters?" 

"No,  I'm  afraid  I  don't.  What 
did  he  do?" 

"He  got  that  road  building  con- 
tract away  from  him  and  gave  it  to 
the  Ashworth  Company,  and  every- 
one says  it's  a  terrible  job.  It  will 
have  to  be  done  over  again  inside  of 
five  years.  Everyone  knows  there 
was  a  lot  of  graft  somewheres.  I'd 
like  to  help  you,  but  with  my  oper- 

ations and  all,  I  just  don't  dare  take 
any  chances  witi  Anton's  job." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Eloise  bright- 
ly. "Perhaps  you  have  helped  me 
more  than  you  think." 

CJHE  spent  another  couple  of  hours 
trying  to  persuade  someone  to 
take  the  petitions  around  and  ended 
up  by  doing  two  blocks  herself. 
There  were  some  women  who 
wouldn't  sign,  but  she  had  a  ma- 
jority of  the  names  in  the  district 
and  figured  she  had  enough  ammu- 
nition to  meet  Jim  Booker  again. 
She  intended  to  give  him  a  chance 
to  change  his  plans  voluntarily  be- 
fore she  went  on  to  the  City  Com- 

When  she  climbed  the  stairs  to 
his  office  the  next  afternoon  it  was 
with  considerable  105  trepidation 
than  she  had  felt  the  first  time. 
Armed  with  nearly  four  hundred 
names,  she  believed  that  she  should 
be  able  to  make  quite  a  serious  im- 
pression. Jim  Booker  was  in  the 
outer  office  and  let  her  in  himself. 

Smiling  as  if  they  shared  a  huge 
joke,  he  said,  "Maybe  you  brought 
a  petition  here  for  me  to  sign?" 

Eloise  flushed— a  bit  taken  back 
to  discover  that  he  knew  all  about 
her  venture— but  she  recovered  her 
composure  immediately  and  re- 
plied, "No,  that  wasn't  exactly  what 
I  had  in  mind.  I  just  wanted  to  let 
you  know  that  the  petitions  are  all 
signed  and  ready  to  go  in  and  to 
ask  if  you  wouldn't  like  to  change 
your  mind." 

"No— I  don't  think  so,"  he  said 
slowly,  leaning  back  in  his  swivel 
desk  chair.  "But  since  you  are  so 
considerate  as  to  give  me  a  chance 
I'll  do  the  same  for  you." 



Eloisc  could  only  look  mystified 
until  he  went  on.  "You  can  tear 
them  up  and  we'll  say  no  more 
about  the  matter." 

"And  why  should  I?"  she  bridled. 

"Your  husband  is  the  county  as- 
sessor, is  he  not?" 

"Yes,  he  is." 

"And  you  would  like  him  to  keep 
on  being  the  county  assessor,  I  sup- 
pose?   It  is  a  good  job." 

She  drew  a  sharp  breath  and  set 
her  lips  firmly.  So  this  was  it.  He 
was  threatening  David's  job.  And 
this  was  why  David  had  looked  so 
serious  the  other  night  when  she 
had  announced  that  she  was  begin- 
ning warfare.  Yes,  the  job  meant 
a  lot,  but  it  didn't  mean  everything. 

She  stood  up.  A  half -forgotten 
thought  flashed  into  her  mind, 
something  that  Mrs.  Rossiter  had 
said  about  the  Ashworth  job.  Maybe 
it  wouldn't  mean  much,  but  it 
wouldn't  hurt  to  try. 

"I  understand  your  threat,  Mr. 
Booker,"  she  said  evenly,  "but  my 
husband  will  agree  with  me  that 
our  boys  are  much  more  important 
than  any  job.  And  while  we  are 
talking  about  jobs  I  might  men- 
tion the  Ashworth  road  contract. 
It  seems  that  there  was  a  lot  that 
went  on  there  that  wasn't  complete- 
ly understood.  Everyone  else  has 
been  afraid  to  mention  it,  but  I  have 
nothing  to  lose,  so  I  might  as  well 
start  talking  about  it." 

This  time  it  was  his  turn  to 
squirm.  Not  very  much,  it  was  true, 
but  enough  to  let  Eloise  know  she 
had  hit  a  vulnerable  spot.  He  walked 
over  to  the  water  cooler,  poured 
himself  a  drink  and  said  slowly, 
"You  have  courage,  but  it  will  take 

more  than  that  to  lick  Jim  Book- 

"Perhaps,"  she  agreed.  Then  as 
she  turned  to  go,  "I'll  hold  these  un- 
til Monday,  in  case  you  change 
your  mind." 

As  she  walked  down  the  stairs 
she  said  to  herself,  "I'm  not  sure 
who  won  that  round,  but  I  think 
there's  a  chance  that  I  did." 

"T)AVY  was  waiting  for  her  on  the 

front  steps,  his  face  beaming. 
"Hi,  Mom!"  he  cried.  "I've  got 
good  news  for  you." 

"Thanks,"  she  smiled.  "This  must 
be  my  lucky  day.    What  is  it?" 

"Ralph's  dad  is  letting  us  have 
his  cabin  on  the  lake  for  three  days. 
We'll  need  a  whole  carload  of 
food."      , 

"That's  wonderful  news,"  she 
agreed.  "Almost  the  best  I've  had 
today.  There's  nothing  I'd  rather 
do  than  fix  up  a  carload  of  food  for 
—how  many  of  you  are  going?" 

"Six,  but  the  other  guys  will  bring 
their  own.  You  just  provide  for  the 

"That  simplifies  matters  a  lot." 
She  was  about  to  go  up  the  steps 
but  paused  to  ask,  "Who  else  is  go- 

"Ralph— of  course.  Gene  Welch, 
Bob  Towler— and  Steve,"  he  added 
the  last  after  a  slight  hesitation. 

Eloise  sat  down  beside  him.  "Do 
you  really  think  that  Jim  Booker's 
son  is  quite  the  type  that  you  boys 
ought  to  choose  for  a  companion?" 
she  asked  seriously.  "His  father  is 
—well,  he  doesn't  have  the  most 
savory  reputation  in  town." 

"I  know,"  answered  Davy,  "but 
Steve's  all  right.  Honest,  Mom. 
We  wouldn't  take  him  if  he  wasn't. 



He  hasn't  had  many  breaks.  Some 
of  the  moms  are  like  you— er,  I 
mean,  they  don't  want  Steve  around. 
He'll  be  a  swell  kid  if  he  just  gets 
a  chance.    What  do  you  say?" 

Eloise  looked  for  a  moment  into 
the  earnest  blue  eyes,  pleading  for 
a  chance  for  his  friend.  "I  say  it's 
all  right,  Son,"  she  smiled.  'Til  go 
in  and  start  on  your  carload  of 

It  was  just  after  the  boys  had  left 
the  next  morning  that  a  floral  de- 
livery truck  drove  up,  and  the  boy 
brought  in  a  huge  white  oblong  box. 

I  wonder  if  I've  forgotten  my 
own  birthday  in  all  this  excitement, 
she  thought,  tearing  off  the  ribbon. 

Inside  were  two  dozen  enormous 
red  roses  and  a  note  which  read: 

Dear  Mrs.  Reynolds:  I  just  learned 
that  my  boy  is  going  with  yours  on  a 
little  trip.  I  like  good  things  for  my 
boy,  too.  Downtown  will  be  a  better 
place  for  The  Blue  Peacock. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Jim  Booker. 

She  was  still  looking  at  the  note, 
slightly  dazed,  when  David  came 
into  the  room.  "Whew!"  he  whis- 
tled, catching  sight  of  the  roses. 
"Are  you  going  to  Europe  or  get- 
ting married  or  something?" 

"Not  exactly,"  smiled  Eloise. 
"This,"  she  went  on,  picking  up  the 
roses,  "is  a  peace  offering  from  an 

Stemming  the  c/tde  of  Iroiiomyelitis 

Information  Furnished  by  the  National  Foundation  for 

Infantile  Paralysis 

|70R  the  fourth  time  in  as  many  years,  the  swelling  tide  of  polio  engulfed 

the  nation  in  1951.  Like  a  flooding  river,  bursting  through  barriers 
and  plunging  across  the  countryside,  the  uncontainable  force  of  polio 
epidemics  descended  upon  American  homes,  bringing  hardship  and  tragedy 
to  the  families  of  some  28,500  victims.  .  .  . 

But  wherever  polio  struck— on  the  plantation,  in  the  mining  town, 
on  the  reservation,  or  in  the  nation's  teeming  centers  of  population— the 
means  of  resisting  its  onslaught  were  close  at  hand— through  the  March 
of  Dimes. 

Blanketing  the  nation,  almost  3,000  chapters  of  the  National  Founda- 
tion for  Infantile  Paralysis  were  ready  and  waiting  with  practical  assistance 
for  the  stricken,  ready  with  MARCH  OF  DIMES  funds  to  meet  the  needs 
of  a  single  patient  or  the  obligation  of  a  full  scale  epidemic  .... 

When  funds  for  patient  care  were  exhausted,  the  burden  of  payment 
was  not  thrown  back  upon  helpless  patients.  The  debt  was  assumed  by 
your  National  Foundation  for  Infantile  Paralysis,  to  be  paid  from  funds 
raised  in  1952.  .  .  .Thousands  of  today's  patients  will  be  on  chapter  rolls 
during  1952  and  in  years  thereafter,  a  crushing  burden  upon  communities 
unless  MARCH  OF  DIMES  aid  is  close  at  hand 

New  epidemics  must  be  faced.  The  nation  must  meet  that  problem 
realistically  and  raise  enough  money  to  fight  the  disease  on  a  larger  scale. 
.  .  .  Help  your  community.    Join  the  MARCH  OF  DIMES. 

Uncertain  Possession 

Chapter  i 
Beatrice  R.  Parsons 

THE  car  crossing  the  Nevada 
desert  was  small  and  dark  in 
the  great  waste  of  gray  sand. 
It  clung  to  the  highway  like  a  huge 
bug.  A  Utah  license  hung  at  the 
back  of  the  car,  and  on  the  front 
was  a  physician's  caduceus.  Dr. 
Matthew  Wire  and  his  bride  of  a 
month  were  alone  in  the  car. 

Lorna  was  extremely  happy.  She 
kept  thinking:  Just  Matt  and  my- 
self! That's  the  way  I  always  want 
it  to  be.  Lorna  Ashton  Wire  and 
her  husband  Dr.  Matthew  Wire. 
She  moved  a  little  closer  to  her  hus- 
band's side  and  put  her  hand  on 
his  arm  in  an  odd,  possessive  little 

Matt's  eyes  caressed  her  as  he 
looked  down  at  her  hand.  "What 
is  it,  Lorna?  What's  troubling 

How  could  she  tell  him?  How 
could  she  explain  her  small  fears 
and  worries?  How  could  she  make 
him  understand  that  she  was  afraid 
of  his  home  town,  Westfield,  Ne- 
vada, of  the  whole  of  Sky  Valley? 

Lorna' s  fears  were  foolish  fears- 
fears  Matt  would  laugh  at!  She 
found  herself  afraid  of  what  she 
imagined  about  the  big,  old  stone 
house  Matt  had  described,  of  elder- 
ly Nurse  Hallie  who  had  taken  care 
of  Matt  as  a  child,  of  Matt's  Uncle 
John— Dr.  John  Wire,  who  was  ill 
with  arthritis  and  had  written  ask- 
ing Matt  to  take  over  his  practice 
until  he  was  well  again. 

These  things  and  others  fright- 
ened Lorna.    She  was  worried  about 

Matt's  old  friends.  The  girls  he 
might  have  married  if  he  had 
stayed  in  Westfield.  Matt  had 
mentioned  Anne  Clayton,  Jeane 
Beatty,  and  Margaret  Rogers.  Mar- 
garet was  not  well,  as  the  result  of 
an  attack  of  rheumatic  fever  when 
a  child. 

Matt  had  been  so  eager  to  see 
his  old  friends  again.  They  had  all 
grown  up  together,  had  gone  to 
school  picnics,  parties,  and  dances. 
They  had  been  such  close  friends, 
had  shared  so  many  things.  Lorna 
couldn't  help  being  a  little  jealous 
when  she  remembered  that  she 
had  not  shared  in  the  fun  and  hap- 

She  had  watched  Matt's  face  light 
up  when  he  had  read  his  uncle's 
letter.  Matt  had  just  finished  his 
internship  at  General  Hospital. 
Now  that  they  were  married  he 
was  looking  around  for  a  place  to 
start  his  own  practice.  He  had 
been  offered  an  office  in  the  almost 
completed  Doctors'  Center.  As 
soon  as  the  building  was  finished, 
just  a  matter  of  a  few  weeks,  he 
could  move  in.  Matt  was  making 
his  plans  when  his  uncle's  letter  ar- 
rived. He  had  read  it  eagerly,  and 
Lorna  knew  then  that  it  interested 

"I  must  confess,  darling,"  he 
said  when  he  had  finished,  "that 
I'm  interested.  I've  always  wanted 
to  take  you  to  Westfield,  introduce 
you  to  all  my  friends.  Let  them 
see  what  a  beautiful  bride  I  chose 
for  myself."    His  eyes  looked  into 

Page  25 



distances  which  she  could  not  fol- 
low, and  he  added  wistfully:  ''Uncle 
John  was  so  good  to  me  after  Dad 
died.  He  helped  me  finish  my  edu- 
cation. Now  I  can  repay  him  a 

Remembering  Matt's  words,  Lor- 
na  stirred  restlessly  at  his  side  and 
found  that  he  was  still  waiting  for 
her  answer.  She  sighed  deeply, 
looking  at  the  sand,  the  mirage  of 
water  ahead  of  their  wheels. 

'Tin  glad  we're  not  going  to  be 
there  long.  Just  long  enough  to 
see  your,  uncle  recovered,  back  in 
practice.  We'll  sell  the  old 
house.  .  .  ." 

"Sell  it?"  Mart's  tone  was  sharp. 
"I've  never  meant  to  sell  it,  Lorna. 
Why,  it's  been  in  the  family  for 
generations.  My  great-grandfather 
started  to  build  the  house  with  the 
stones  he  dug  from  his  land.  He 
drove  his  bride  into  Nevada  in  a 
covered  wagon  to  bring  a  doctor's 
skill  to  the  six  families  in  Sky  Val- 

"We  won't  need  it,"  she  said 
reasonably,  "after  we're  through  in 
Westfield.  It  would  just  be  a 
burden,  something  to  worry  you 
when  you're  settled  in  your  new 

CHE  saw  that  Matt  wasn't  exact- 
ly convinced.  So  she  hurried 
on,  painting  a  pleasant  picture  of 
the  new  office,  the  small  apartment 
which  they  meant  to  furnish  until 
Matt  made  a  lot  of  money  so  that 
they  could  buy  a  house. 

"It's  a  chance  in  a  million,  Matt," 
she  urged.  "You've  always  dreamed 
of  an  office  like  that.  Things  will 
be  easy  for  you.  Office  hours  from 
ten  until  five.    No  calls  in  the  mid- 

dle of  the  night.    A  great  hospital 
close  by." 

She  didn't  want  Matt  to  be  just 
another  country  doctor  like  his  fa- 
ther before  him,  or  like  Uncle  John, 
who  was  a  combination  obstetrician, 
pediatrician,  and  all-around  psy- 
chiatrist, overworked,  underpaid. 

At  Doctors'  Center,  Matt  would 
be  a  part  of  a  group  of  important 
doctors  who  were  going  places, 
earning  prestige,  meeting  wealthy 
patients.  He'd  make  money.  He'd 
be  more  successful  than  his  father, 
or  his  grandfather. 

She  gave  him  a  warm  smile.  "A 
man  must  be  ambitious,  Matt.  He 
must  have  a  sense  of  accomplish- 
ment. In  Westfield  you'd  have 
practically  no  time  to  call  your 
own  .  .  .  ." 

She  broke  off,  surprised  to  dis- 
cover that  Matt  wasn't  listening. 
His  attention  had  focused  on  a 
huge,  gray  hawk  which  seemed 
pinned  against  the  blue  of  the  sky 
some  distance  in  front  of  their  car. 
When  it  was  buffeted  by  the  wind, 
it  moved  easily,  yet  with  grim  de- 

"That's  the  way  a  man  should 
be,  Lorna.  Free,  strong,  with  noth- 
ing to  keep  him  from  doing  what 
he  wants  to  do  .  .  .  ." 


Her  cry,  interrupting  his  voice, 
was  so  piercing,  that  it  was  as 
though  it  had  carried  into  the  sky. 
As  though  it  had  heard,  the  hawk 
swept  into  wide  circles  and  disap- 
peared among  the  gray  hills. 

Matt's  eyes  swept  to  Lorna's  pale 
face,  and  he  spoke  thoughtfully. 

"It  was  almost  as  though  you 
willed  him  to  leave,  Lorna." 

She  had  willed  it.    She  had  hat- 


ed  the  bird's  intrusion  into  their  road  that  seemed  to  lift  itself  up 

close  little  twosome.  It  had  fright-  into  the  gray  hills.    She  had  packed 

ened  her  to  see  the  way  Matt  had  them  in  the  corner  of  her  suitcase, 

withdrawn     from     her.     She     was  She   hadn't   ever   shown   them   to 

afraid  that  would  be  the  way  he  Matt,  nor  told  him  about  them.  It 

would  withdraw  after  they  got  to  was    always    as    though    someone 

Westfield.    There    would    be    so  might  take  them  away  from  her. 

many  things  to  keep  them  apart.  Now,  as  Matt  stopped  the  car 

Memories,  people,  old  friends.  and  pointed  to  a  weathered  road- 

Lorna  hadn't   minded   the   idea  sign,  she  felt  her  worries  and  fears 

of  Doctor's  Center.     It  was  huge,  overwhelming    her.      If    only    she 

impersonal.       The     people     who  could  tuck  Matt  into  the  corner  of 

sought  Matt  out  wouldn't  be  people  her  suitcase,  keep  him  for  her  very 

he  had  known  all  his  life.     They  own.    But  he  was  waiting,  expect- 

wouldn't  be  able  to  shut  her  out  antly,  for  her  to  read  the  sign.  Her 

the  way  the  people  in  Westfield  voice  shook  a  little, 

would.  ' 'Westfield,  Nevada  .  .  .  Two 

It  was  almost  terrifying  to  love  Miles  ....  Population  2,000" 

someone  the  way  Lorna  loved  Matt.  "Two-thousand-two,"      corrected 

She  had  been  very  lonely  until  he  Matt    smilingly,    "if    the    Honson 

came.    Ever  since  her  parents  had  twins  have  arrived!" 

died  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  she  Lorna  tried  to  match  his  gaiety, 

had  been  lonely.  "Oh,  they  wouldn't,  Matt,  not  with- 
out you!"    Suddenly  she  wanted  to 

CHE  had  lived  with  her  cousin,  be  with  Matt  when  the  twins  were 

^   Emily  Ashton,  her  father's  cous-  born.     She  looked  at  him  eagerly: 

in,  really,  an  elderly  woman  who  ran  "Let  me  go  to  the  farm 

a  boarding  house  in  one  of  the  city's  He  was  already  shaking  his  head, 

cluttered  streets.     Cousin  Em  had  He  spoke  casually:  "Hallie  will  be 

had   little   time   to   shower   Lorna  there,  darling." 

with  love  and  affection.  Lorna  felt  chilled.    It  was  begin- 

Lorna  had  always  longed  to  be-  ning    already— this    terrible    thing 

long  to  someone,  to  have  someone,  which    she   feared!     A   stretching, 

something   that  belonged   only   to  aching  silence  filled  the  car.    After 

her.  a  while  Matt  began  talking  again. 

One   Christmas   when    she    was  "You'll    like   everything,    Lorna. 

seven,  a  neighbor  had  given  her  a  The     three     houses— ours,     Uncle 

pair  of  small,  china  kittens.    They  John's,    and    Hallie's— are   side   by 

were  a  symbol  of  ownership.     She  side.    When  Dad  and  Uncle  John 

clung  to  them  desperately,  loving  set  up  their  practice  they  used  one 

them,  keeping  them  all  for  herself,  of  the  rooms  in  the  big  house.  But 

No  one  else  ever  shared  them.  They  just  before  Dad  died,  they  built  the 

were  her  most  cherished  possessions!  new  offices,  one  each,  and  a  lab 

She  thought  of  her  kittens  now  for  Hallie.    It's  on  the  corner,  right 

as  she  watched  Matt  drive  off  the  next  door  to  the  house." 

highway  and  turn  into  a  rougher  Lorna  wrinkled  her  brows,   try- 



ing  to  make  a  mental  picture  of 
what  Matt  was  saying.  She  waited 
until  he  went  on. 

"Westfield  doesn't  have  a  hos- 
pital. It  was  Dad's  dream  that 
someday  someone  would  build  one. 
Jim  Nason  is  the  only  man  with 
money  in  Westfield.  But  he's  old 
— almost  eighty-five— and  a  penny- 
pincher  if  there  ever  was  one.  He's 
the  only  likely  donor  in  Sky  Val- 
ley. But  he  dislikes  everything  and 
everybody.  He's  threatened  to 
leave  all  his  money  to  build  a  statue 
of  himself  in  the  middle  of  the 

Lorna  had  to  laugh.  "He  sounds 
impossible,  Matt." 

TyfATT  grinned.  "He  is  impos- 
sible, Lorna.  Once  when  I 
came  home  from  medical  school 
he  met  me  on  the  street.  He  waved 
an  indignant  finger  under  my  nose 
and  shouted:  'So  you're  goin'  to  be 
a  doctor,  be  ye?  Well,  let  me  tell 
you  one  thing.  You're  nothin'  but 
a  young  whippersnapper.  I  recall 
when  you  swiped  apples  off  my 
trees.  Don't  think  I'll  call  you  in 
if  I  git  sick— which  I  ain't  plannin' 
to  do!'  And  off  he  tramped,  up  the 
street,  enjoying  his  own  bad  temp- 

Matt  shook  his  head  dubiously: 
"I  hate  to  think  of  all  that  money 
tied  up  in  a  super-duper  statue 
when  it  could  do  so  much  good." 
He  broke  off,  adding:  "I  was  tell- 
ing you  about  the  arrangements. 
I'm  to  have  Dad's  office.  Uncle 
John  can't  be  very  active  for  a  while. 
But  he'll  be  there,  handing  out 
good  advice,  telling  me  things  I 
need  to  know.     Hallie  guards  the 

lab  like  an  elderly  dragon.  She  may 
frighten  you  with  her  stiffly 
starched  uniform,  her  unbending 
curtness.  But  don't  be  fooled, 
darling.  Hallie  is  swell!  Kind, 
thoughtful,  a  wonderful  nurse. 
Why,  beside  the  biologicals  in  one 
refrigerator,  she  keeps  popsickles 
for  the  kids!  But  woe  be  to  any- 
one who  opens  her  refrigerator,  or 
faints  at  the  sight  of  blood!" 

He  laughed,  but  Lorna  trembled. 
"Oh,  Matt,  I'm  sure  to  disgrace 

He  patted  her  hand  reassuringly 
as  he  guided  the  car  through  the 
rising  hills.  Lorna  saw  scrub  oak, 
sage,  and  yucca  clinging  to  the  sand 
with  obstinate  roots.  Matt  went  on 

"We'll  all  work  together,  Lorna. 
Hallie  and  I  will  go  on  calls.  Uncle 
John  will  do  what  he's  able.  The 
entire  set-up  is  connected  by  tele- 

And  by  a  hundred  other  things, 
thought  Lorna  glumly.  Theirs  was 
a  triumvirate  of  healing  that  would 
be  closed  against  her,  just  as  the 
gray  hills  were  closing  about  their 

The  road  twisted,  turned,  then 
came  suddenly  upon  a  spreading 
valley.  Lorna  could  scarcely  believe 
her  eyes.  It  was  green  and  lush, 
with  a  checkerboard  of  farms  and 
ranches,  and  a  blue  lake,  and  a 
tumbling  river.  Their  wheels  spun 
across  the  bridge,  past  small,  brown 
farmhouses,  then  into  a  parade-like 
row  of  straight-limbed  poplars  that 
led  the  march  into  the  heart  of  the 
town.  The  old  stone  and  lumber 
buildings  flaunted  modern  neon 
signs.     Lorna  read  them  curiously. 



Hardware  .  .  .  Furniture  .  .  . 
Beauty  Salon  .  .  .  Groceries  .  .  . 

Lorna  dimpled,  and  her  gray  eyes 
widened  with  anticipation  as  she 
shook  her  softly  curling,  gold- 
bronze  hair  from  her  flushed 

"Matt,  I'm  glad  I  packed  my 
prettiest  party  dress!  The  pale  blue 
one  which  you  like  so  well."  It 
had  small,  puffed  sleeves,  a  slim 
bodice,  and  a  wide,  swirling  net 
skirt.  She  had  promised  herself 
that  she  would  never  wear  it  for 
anyone  but  Matt.  "We'll  go  danc- 
ing over  there  by  the  lake.  I'll 
wear  it  some  night  when  the  moon 
is  a  big,  silver  plate  over  the  edge 
of  the  hills.  We'll  be  in  each  oth- 
er's arms.  I'll  have  you  all  to  my- 

She  cuddled  close  to  him,  and  he 
looked  down  at  her  to  give  her  a 
one-sided,  teasing  little  grin. 

"More  likely  you'll  wear  a  cotton 
square-dance  dress  at  a  barbecue!" 

"Oh,  Matt!"  she  protested,  then 
saw  that  they  had  left  the  edge  of 

the  town  and  were  turning  into  a 
wide  cottonwood-shaded  street  lined 
with  very  old,  yet  well-preserved, 
houses  built  of  brick,  lumber,  and 
stone.  At  the  end,  three  houses 
and  a  square  office  building  formed 
a  triangle  set  among  green  lawns 
and  flower  gardens.  Matt's  face 
was  shining  happily. 

"We're  home,  darling,"  he  cried, 
and  though  his  voice  was  low,  it 
pulsed  with  excitement.  "Uncle 
John  and  Hallie  are  waiting  for  us. 
We're  home  at  last!" 

Something  in  the  way  he  said  it 
made  Lorna  cold.  She  lifted  her 
bright  head  in  a  defiant  little  ges- 
ture and  spoke  carefully. 

"Well,  we're  here,  Matt.  We're 
here  at  last." 

She  had  rejected  Matt's  use  of 
the  word,  home!  They  were  here 
for  a  little  while.  Until  Uncle  John 
was  better.  But  as  soon  as  they 
could  they'd  be  going  back.  Back 
to  the  big,  white,  clean-smelling 
office  building  in  Doctors'  Center! 

(To  be  continued) 

JJeep    vU inter 

Beinice  T.  Clayton 

The  sunrise  broke  this  morning  on  a  bright  and  glistening  world, 

As  over  towering  mountain  peaks  its  molten  colors  hurled 

Into  this  peaceful  valley,  which  still  slumbered  here  below, 

In  heavy  winter  blanketings  and  comforters  of  snow. 

The  sight  of  so  much  glory  in  the  flaming  morning  skies 

Caught  at  my  heart  that  heaven  should  be  glimpsed  by  mortal  eyes. 

The  freezing  air  tore  at  my  clothes  with  penetrating  cold, 

And  on  the  counterpane  of  snow  were  footprints  fresh  and  old, 

Where  hunger-driven  wild-life  folks,  insensible  to  harm, 

Had  come  to  share  the  bounty  and  the  shelter  of  our  farm. 

Footprints  of  timid  hare  and  quail,  and  on  our  snow-filled  lawn, 

Were  pheasants,  while  our  young  calf  shared  his  breakfast  with  a  fawn. 

Sixty    LJears  Jxgo 

Excerpts  from  the  Woman's  Exponent,  January  1  and  January  15,  1892 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

THE  DAYS  OF  KIRTLAND:  In  the  early  days  of  the  Church  in  Kirtland  the 
Latter-day  Saints  were  generally  very  zealous  in  good  works,  and  very  united;  they  were 
as  humble  as  little  children,  and  loved  one  another  with  that  peculiar  love  that  the 
Gospel  always  creates,  inspires  and  fosters;  and  they  were  desirous  of  being  united,  and 
on  an  equality  one  with  another,  so  that  no  feeling  of  disunion  should  arise  on  account 
of  position  or  circumstance.  Do  the  Latter-day  Saints  in  this  day  need  to  be  reminded 
that  they  are  all  of  one  great  family,  and  that  the  Lord  is  not  a  respector  of  persons, 
because  of  wealth  or  station;  but  the  humble  and  meek  ones  though  poor  and  in 
straitened  circumstances  are  as  near  to  Him  as  the  rich,  and  popular,  and  the  learned, 
who  are  wise  in  the  things  of  the  world.  Wealth  brings  with  it  greater  responsibility, 
for  we  understand  men  and  women  are  only  stewards  over  these  things  in  this  world 
for  the  good  of  humanity,  therefore  the  wise  steward  remembers  to  put  his  wealth  to 
good  usury,  that  he  may  render  a  good  account  to  the  Great  Master  when  he  shall 
appear  before  Him. — Selected 


Oh!  hush  the  throbbings  of  the  pent  up  heart! 
Why  will  the  tears  of  long-gone  sorrow  start? 
Banish  the  griefs — put  miseries  aside — 
Let  joy  replete  in  merry  measure  glide — 
Yet,  pause!  methinks  I  hear  the  people  say, 
Another  era  has  begun  today. 

— E.  B.  W. 

WOMAN'S  OPINION:  I  would  that  all  good  women  might  receive  the  benefit 
of  the  sublime  teachings  of  the  martyred  Prophet  Joseph  in  regard  to  woman  whose 
friend  he  was  and  whose  sayings  I  often  recognize  emanating  from  the  pen  of  writers 
who  have  unwittingly  adopted  some  of  his  views. — M.  A.  P.  H. 

DECEMBER  23,  1891:  This  day  is  the  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  the  Prophet 
Joseph  Smith,  who  was  faithful  to  the  last.  Through  the  inspiration  of  God  he 
organized  the  Relief  Society  on  the  17th  day  of  March  1842,  in  Nauvoo,  Illinois,  of 
which  I  had  the  honor  of  being  a  member,  and  a  few  yet  remain  to  testify  to  his  words. 
The  Prophet  said,  "we  did  not  conceive  the  greatness  of  the  work  we  were  laying  the 
foundation  of." — Zina  D.  H.  Young 


For  those  we  love  we  work  and  live, 
To  us  their  lives  are  Heaven's  choicest  gift 

That  makes  us  e'en  forget  ourselves, 

And  from  our  selfish  aims  our  feelings  lift. 

— E.  R.  S. 

SINGING  MOTHERS:  Ah,  what  does  the  world  owe  to  the  mothers,  the 
patient,  loving,  song-singing  mothers?  Who  can  tell?  How  many  lives  have  been 
turned,  changed  completely  by  the  encouraging  smile  of  the  mother,  or  the  song,  com- 
ing full  of  love  and  gladness  to  win  her  child  back  to  the  path  of  righteousness. 

— Bertha  Packard  Englet 

Page  30 

Woman's    Sphere 

"IA71TH  woman  power  activating 
both  good  and  evil  through- 
out the  nations,  it  is  most  urgent 
that  American  women  rise  fully  to 
their  obligations  and  opportunities. 
American  women  are  being  accused 
of  marked  negligence  in  recent  vot- 
ing. It  is  the  obligation  of  all  wom- 
en citizens  to  exercise  the  franchise 
which  women  struggled  so  many 
years  to  attain.  If  women  keep 
thoroughly  informed  on  events  be- 
tween elections,  they  will  be  able 
to  vote  intelligently  and  be  a  great 
force  in  combating  evils. 

lyfISS  Utah  for  1952  is  Marilyn 
(Bunny)  Reese,  a  senior  in 
Box  Elder  High  School,  and  vice- 
president  of  the  student  body.  The 
seventeen-year-old  girl  won  the  tal- 
ent contest  with  a  dramatic  reading. 

A  MONG  the  contributors  to  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine,  whose 
poems  have  been  accepted  for 
publication  in  the  leading  na- 
tional women's  magazines  during 
the  past  year  are:  Christie  Lund 
Coles,  Margery  S.  Stewart,  Kath- 
erine  Fernelius  Larsen,  Berta  Huish 
Christensen,  Eva  Willes  Wangs- 
gaard,  Lael  W.  Hill,  and  Vesta  P. 
Crawford.  The  magazines  in  which 
these  Latter-day  Saint  women  have 
been  represented  include:  Good 
Housekeeping  Magazine,  Ladies 
Home  Journal,  Farm  Journal, 
Household  Magazine,  and  others. 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 


graciousness  and  consideration 
for  others,  won  many  enthusiastic 
admirers  during  her  brief  visit  in 
Canada  and  America  with  her  hand- 
some consort,  the  Duke  of  Edin- 

HPHE  president  of  an  American 
music  publishing  company- 
one  of  the  largest  in  the  world— has 
asked  Florence  Jepperson  Madsen, 
member  of  the  Relief  Society  gen- 
eral Board,  to  submit  some  of  her 
compositions  to  be  added  to  his 
catalogue.  His  letter  stated  that 
in  his  thirty-five  years  as  president, 
this  is  the  first  time  he  has  ever 
personally  solicited  material.  Mrs. 
Madsen  has  specialized  in  compos- 
ing anthems  for  mixed  voices,  and 
songs  and  anthems  for  ladies'  two, 
three,  and  four-part  voices.  Eleven  of 
her  compositions  have  been  pub- 
lished by  national  firms  of  high 
standing,  two  by  the  Relief  Society, 
and  one  by  the  Mutual  Improve- 
ment Association.  "If  Ye  Love  Me 
Keep  My  Commandments,"  so 
beautifully  sung  by  the  Singing 
Mothers  under  Sister  Madsen's 
baton,  is  her  latest  composition. 


Utah  for  1946,  is  now  a  na- 
tional television  and  radio  actress. 
She  has  appeared  in  "Henry  Aid- 
rich,"  "Theater  Guild  of  the  Air," 
and  NBC's  "Bonnie  Maid"  show. 

Page  31 


VOL  39 

JANUARY  1952 

NO.  1 

we  Seek  ijifter  oJhese  ofhtngs 

If  there  is  anything  virtuous,  lovely,  or  of  good  report,  or  praiseworthy,  we  seek 
after  these  things  (13th  Article  of  Faith). 

A  GAIN  this  year  in  the  month  of 
January,  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  is  enriched  and  made 
more  valuable  by~~the  three  prize- 
winning  poems  of  the  Eliza  R.  Snow 
Poem  Contest  and  the  first  prize 
story  in  the  Relief  Society  Short 
Story  Contest.  Since  the  beginning 
of  the  poem  contest  in  1924,  when 
Sarah  Ahlstrom  Nelson  wrote  her 
lovely  poem  'The  Dreamer/'  Lat- 
ter-day Saint  women  have  gleaned 
from  the  scenes  of  earth,  from  their 
own  lives,  and  from  the  lives  of 
others,  the  precious  events  and  the 
significant  thoughts  which  they 
have  clothed  with  words  of  endur- 
ing beauty  to  share  with  others 
through  the  pages  of  the  Magazine. 
The  story  contest,  inaugurated  in 
1942,  the  Relief  Society  centennial 
year,  has  revealed  much  talent  and 
has  given  an  opportunity  for  Lat- 
ter-day Saint  women  to  develop 
their  narrative  gifts  in  writing  stor- 
ies of  enduring  worth. 

Over  the  years,  these  poems  and 
stories  have  become  an  expression 
of  that  high  endeavor  and  that  con- 
tinuing search  for  the  artistic  and 
the  beautiful  which  has  character- 
ized Latter-day  Saint  women  since 
the  days  of  Kirtland  and  Nauvoo. 

We  know  that  every  spirit  blessed 
with  the  opportunity  of  earth  life 
comes  into  mortality  with  the  pow- 
er to  reach  out  and  grow  illimitably. 


It  is  as  the  poet  Wordsworth  has 

The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  cometh  from  afar: 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 
From  God,  who  is  our  home  .... 

Individualistic  in  their  nature,  in- 
fluenced to  an  unknown  degree  by 
that  marvelous  and  mysterious 
stream  of  heredity,  and  tinted  and 
toned  by  the  earth  environment— 
our  gifts  and  our  talents  have  been 
bestowed  upon  us  for  developing 
and  sharing.  Little  do  we  know 
the  extent  of  our  capabilities  until 
we  have  explored  at  least  some  of 
the  fair,  unlimited  fields  of  art  and 
their  expression  which  are  so  near 
to  our  doors.  And  we  may  never 
realize  the  extent  of  the .  influence 
which  one  poem  or  one  song  or  one 
painting  may  have  upon  our  as- 
sociates in  this  day  and  upon  others 
in  the  years  to  come. 

When  Eliza  R.  Snow  wrote  the 
heartfelt  words  of  "O  My  Father" 
for  the  saints,  perhaps  she  could  not 
foresee  that  future  generations 
would  sing  those  words  again  and 
again,  and  with  each  singing  the  gos- 
pel would  become  more  precious— 
that  many  hearts  would  be  lifted  to 
a  realization  of  the  eternal  verities 
through  the  words— 'Truth  is  reas- 



on,  truth  eternal  tells  me  I've  a 
mother  there." 

And  our  own  Florence  J.  Mad- 
sen,  a  member  of  the  Relief  Society 
general  board,  has  given  us,  among 
her  many  compositions,  a  mag- 
nificent anthem  which  shall  be  for 
our  daughters  and  their  daughters 
in  the  years  to  come— "If  Ye  Love 
Me,  Keep  My  Commandments." 

Alice  Merrill  Home,  who  ex- 
pressed in  all  phases  of  her  life,  her 
lofty  ideals  of  artistic  values  has 
given  voice  to  the  responsibilities  of 
all  who  would  enrich  the  world  by 
developing  their  talents: 

The  insight  to  recognize  the  capa- 
bilities of  those  among  whom  one  moves, 
marks  the  degree  of  greatness  in  leader- 
ship. .  .  .  The  true  leader  feels  a  double 
joy  in  the  knowledge  that  his  comrades 
grow  with  him  by  using  their  gifts  .  .  . 
but  each  soul  has  a  higher  duty:  to  dis- 
cover his  own  infinity. 

Many  of  us  will  never  write  an 
enduring  anthem  or  an  immortal 
poem  or  story  or  paint  a  picture 
that  will  retain  its  luster  through 
the  ages,  but  we  can  develop  our 
own  gifts  until  they  become  as  pol- 
ished lamps,  and  though  the  light 
may  not  be  reflected  afar,  it  will 
shine  in  our  homes,  and  our  chil- 

dren will  learn  to  appreciate  the 
beautiful  and  the  artistic  and  to 
discriminate  between  the  authentic 
and  the  shoddy,  and  they  will  be 
able  to  evaluate  the  achievements 
which  add  insight  and  interpreta- 
tion to  their  view  of  the  world  and 
its  people— they  will  understand  the 
longing  and  the  seeking  for  the 
virtuous  and  the  lovely  which 
characterize  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  God. 

There  are  many  names  which 
may  not  be  written  in  the  high 
places,  but  each  week  and  each  year 
the  women  who  use  their  artistic 
gifts  for  service  in  the  Church  are 
making  life  more  lovely  and  more 
worthwhile  for  thousands  of  Church 
members.  Many  organists  and 
choristers,  and  many  singers  of  solos, 
the  members  of  our  choirs  and  our 
Singing  Mothers  are  giving  great 
richness  to  other  lives  and  at  the 
same  time  enriching  their  own. 

Let  us  discover  our  gifts,  let  us 
learn  how  to  use  them  for  our  own 
growth  and  for  sharing  with  others 
—that  precious  talents  may  not  be 
lost,  but  may  be  remembered  and 
become  a  lasting  joy  to  ourselves 
and  others. 

-V.  P.  C. 

V       V       *       s» 

9-t  3s  Winter 

Grace  M.  Candland 

Now  is  the  season  of  winter, 
And  snow  covers  valley  and  hill; 
The  earth  is  a  cloak  of  rare  ermine 
And  the  icebound  streamlet  is  still. 

Look  at  the  blue  of  the  heavens, 
Close  studded  with  glittering  light 
From  the  stars  and  the  soft  moonbeams 
Pouring  down  to  the  quiet  night. 

Take  note  of  the  evergreen  bushes 
Encased  in  a  prison  of  glass, 
Bunches  of  bright  yellow  berries 
Hung  under  the  branches  en  masse. 

Winter  is  past  all  comparing, 
In  beauty  and  charm  so  complete, 
From  the  dipper  beaming  above 
To  the  crunchy  flakes  at  our  feet. 



'jbound  Volumes  of  ig$i  LKeiief  Society    1 1  lagazines 

OELIEF  Society  officers  and  members  who  wish  to  have  their  1951  issues 
of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  bound  may  do  so  through  the  office  of 
the  General  Board,  40  North  Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  The  cost 
for  binding  the  twelve  isses  in  a  permanent  cloth  binding  is  $2.25,  includ- 
ing the  index.  If  the  leather  binding  is  preferred  the  cost  is  $3.25. 
If  bound  volmes  are  requested  and  the  Magazines  for  binding  are  not 
supplied  by  the  person  making  the  request,  the  charge  for  furnishing 
the  Magazines  will  be  $1.50,  which  will  be  added  to  the  cost  of  binding, 
thus  making  the  total  cost  for  cloth -bound  volumes  $3.75  and  for  leather- 
bound  volumes  $475.  Only  a  limited  number  of  Magazines  are  available 
for  binding. 

It  is  suggested  that  wards  and  stakes  have  one  volume  of  the  1951 
Magazines  bound  for  preservation  in  ward  and  stake  Relief  Society  libraries. 

^/Lward  Subscriptions  ^Presented  in  ^rLpnt 

HTHE  award  subscriptions  presented  to  the  Magazine  representatives  who 
secure  75  per  cent  or  more  of  their  Relief  Society  members  as  sub- 
scribers to  the  Magazine  will  not  be  awarded  until  after  the  stake  Magazine 
representatives'  annual  reports  have  been  audited.  Cards  notifying  ward  and 
stake  representatives  of  these  subscriptions  for  1951  will  be  mailed  to  them 
about  April  1,  1952. 

'  It  is  very  important  that  these  cards  be  returned  to  the  Magazine 
office  as  soon  as  possible  after  being  received. 


Grace  Barker  Wilson 

The  wind  hangs  frozen  in  the  air, 
And  zero  hour  is  everywhere. 
Stiff  breath  balloons  from  icy  lips, 
The  street  is  thick  with  diamond  chips. 
A  single  bird  dares  to  alight 
As  trees  stand  rigid,  boughs  upright. 
All  nature  at  attention  stands, 
Responsive  to  the  cold's  commands. 
Spring  is  the  only  adversary 
Can  break  the  hold  of  January. 

Page  34 

Cnora  of  Jxnowinq 

C.  Cameron  Johns 

Brief  is  the  chord  of  knowing, 

A  moment  from  a  symphony 

Imprisoned  in  the  heart. 

Shadows  of  silence 

Are  held  at  bay 

While  unseen  hands  release 

The  notes  to  singing; 

Suddenly  all  fears 

Are  centered  in  flame 

And  lost  in  the  afterglow. 

A  Strange  Christmas  Eve 

Jeanette  McKay  MorreU 

GWENDOLYN  Mack  had  main  at  the  house  so  Gwen  and  the 
never  seen  an  Indian  until  children  would  never  be  alone.  He 
she  moved  West  with  her  cared  for  the  cow,  pigs,  and  chick- 
husband  and  two  children  and  set-  ens,  and  carefully  tended  Gwen's 
tied  on  the  large,  lonely  ranch  in  spirited  mare  and  the  children's  pin- 
Wyoming.  The  property  was  left  to  ponies,  which  their  owners  rode 
to  her  husband,  Bill  Mack,  by  an  very  often  to  visit  their  dear  friends 
uncle  for  whom  he  was  named,  and  nearest  neighbors,  the  Alders, 
Neither  one  of  them  knew  anything  who  lived  four  miles  down  the  high- 
about  ranch  life,  but  they  were  way  toward  the  town, 
young  and  unafraid.  Their  first  winter  had  been  very 

From  earliest  childhood  Gwen  mild,  and  Gwen  and  the  twins  en- 
had  visited  the  home  of  her  grand-  joyed  it  thoroughly.  There  was 
parents  in  eastern  Pennsylvania,  scarcely  a  day  when  they  could  not 
and  the  tales  of  Indian  uprisings  ride  out  in  comfort,  and  she  won- 
in  Colonial  days  were  vivid  in  her  dered  if  all  the  stoiies  she  had  heard 
memory.  What  she  learned  in  about  skiis  and  snowshoes  and 
history  classes  later  had  not  sue-  roads  blocked  with  slides  had  been 
ceeded  in  effacing  the  picture  paint-  merely  inventions  of  some  imagina- 
ed  by  her  grandfather's  early  tales.  tive   brains.     This   present   winter 

When  they  arrived  in  Wyoming  had  been  the  same,  and  the  beau- 

they    found    a    substantially    built  tiful  sunshiny  days  lasted  until  two 

cabin,  with  a  barn,  chicken  houses,  days  before  Christmas, 

and  pigsty,  and  a  small  clearing  for  Then    everything    happened    at 

a   vegetable   garden,   in   the  valley  once.     Bill  had  taken  the  car  into 

about  twenty  miles  from  the  near-  town   for   supplies   and   Christmas 

est  town.    The  sheep  ranch  proper  presents    and    expected    to    return 

was  fifteen  miles  in  the  opposite  di-  early  the  day  before  Christmas.  But 

rection  and  could  be  reached  only  a    sudden    heavy    snowstorm    had 

by  a  winding  mountain  road  not  yet  come  from  the  north  and  the  men 

widened  for  safe  auto  travel.     An  came   rushing   over   for   the   three 

Indian  Reservation  was  beyond  the  extra  horses  to  help  get  the  sheep 

ranch,  but  Gwen  learned  that  the  down  to  the  winter  range,  leaving 

Indians  seldom  came  through  the  Gwen   and   the   children   with   no 

little  valley.  means  of  transportation. 

Because  Bill  was  necessarily  away 

from  home  a  great  deal  of  the  time,  AS  the  day  wore  on  and  Bill  did 

attending  to  supplies  for  his  men,  not  return,  Gwen  called  Abe  in 

shipping,  supervising  the  shearing,  and  confided  her  fears  to  him,  when 

and  moving  camp,  he  had  arranged  the    children    were    busy    in    their 

for  Abe  Hunt,  one  of  his  uncle's  rooms. 

oldest  and  most  faithful  men  to  re-  ''I  am  sure  something  has  hap- 

Page  35 



pened  or  Mr.  Mack  would  have 
been  here  this  morning.  What  do 
you  think  we  had  better  do?" 

Abe  answered  in  his  slow  way, 
'There  is  an  old  pair  of  snowshoes 
down  at  the  barn.  In  them  I  could 
make  my  way  down  the  road  a 
ways,  but  I  doubt  if  I  could  get  to 
Alder's  place  and  back  tonight." 

Gwen  shuddered,  realizing  what 
it  would  mean  to  be  left  alone  on 
a  night  like  this,  but  her  concern 
for  Bill  outweighed  her  own  fear, 
and  she  said,  "I  think  you  had  bet- 
ter go  and  let  the  Alders  know  even 
if  you  have  to  stay  there  all  night." 

She  watched  Abe  start  out  on  his 
snowshoes  and  realized  the  diffi- 
culties he  would  encounter  going 
through  the  soft,  new  snow.  When 
he  was  out  of  sight  she  called  the 
children  in,  and  as  they  sat  before 
the  open  fire  in  the  living-dining 
room,  she  said,  "With  all  this  snow, 
I'm  just  afraid  Santa  Claus  will  not 
be  able  to  get  through  this  storm  to 
find  us  tonight.  You  see,  Daddy 
has  been  held  up  because  of  it." 

Bill  Junior  said  nonchalantly,  "Oh 
Mommy,  that's  silly.  Why  Santa 
Claus  comes  from  the  North  Pole, 
and  his  reindeer  wouldn't  even  no- 
tice this  much  snow." 

And  Susan  added,  "He  knows 
where  we  live,  because  he  found  us 
last  year,  so  I'm  sure  he'll  be  here 

There  was  no  use  arguing  against 
such  childish  confidence,  so  she 
commenced  wondering  what  she 
could  do  if  Bill  did  not  appear  with 
the  Christmas  things.  She  had  a 
few  oranges,  and  she  had  made 
cookies  this  morning,  but  that  was 
as  far  as  she  could  go.  During  the 
past  month,  Bill  had  been  too  busy 

to  go  to  town,  so  their  supplies  had 
become  pretty  low  and  she  had  de- 
pended upon  his  bringing  every- 
thing the  children  had  asked  for,  in- 
cluding the  candy  and  nuts  for  the 
stockings,  so  the  outlook  was  pretty 

As  she  was  about  to  prepare  their 
supper,  she  heard  a  car  chugging 
through  the  snow,  coming  up  the 
driveway,  and  the  children  com- 
menced dancing  and  shouting,  "It's 
Daddy,  and  he's  home  for  Christ- 

But  it  was  not  their  daddy,  for 
Abe  appeared  at  the  door,  explain- 
ing, "I  met  Beaver  Charley  and  his 
wife  coming  up  in  their  truck  and 
they  said  there  had  been  a  slide  in 
the  canyon  which  they  just  missed, 
but  that  no  one  can  come  through 
until  that  is  cleared  away." 

Gwen's  heart  sank.  "But,  Abe, 
what  can  we  do?  And  who  is  this 
Beaver  Charley?" 

Abe  replied:  "He's  a  good  fellow 
who  helps  us  out  on  the  ranch 
sometimes.  He  says  he'll  drive 
back,  and  we  can  dig  from  this  side 
while  others  will  surely  be  digging 
from  the  other  side,  and  maybe  by 
morning,  we  can  get  through." 

Still  shocked  by  the  news  Abe 
had  brought,  Gwen  lifted  her  head 
and  said  quickly,  "Then  get  your 
shovels  and  hurry  back  before  any 
more  of  the  road  is  blocked." 

Abe  went  to  the  barn  to  get  the 
shovels  and  returned  to  the  door 
again.  "Charley  thinks  his  wife  had 
better  stay  here  with  you  until  he 
gets  back." 

That  was  heartening;  at  least  she 
would  not  be  alone  with  the  chil- 
dren. So  she  said,  "That  will  be 
fine;  have  her  come  in." 



Until  the  woman  entered  the 
door,  it  had  not  occurred  to  Gwen 
that  Beaver  Charley  and  his  wife 
were  Indians.  When  she  saw  the 
dark  woman  standing  there, 
wrapped  in  her  bulging,  bright-col- 
ored blanket  and  carrying  a  sack, 
her  first  impulse  was  to  turn  and 
run,  but  she  controlled  herself  and 
stood  with  her  knees  knocking  to- 
gether beyond  her  control.  At  last, 
she  stepped  aside  and  asked  her 
guest  to  enter. 

^HE  Indian  must  have  sensed 
Gwen's  fright,  because  she 
sidled  into  the  room  and  sat  on  the 
edge  of  a  chair  near  the  fire,  and 
just  as  the  young  hostess  had  decid- 
ed her  fears  were  groundless  and  she 
must  speak  to  this  stranger,  Abe 
rushed  in  with  a  gun  and  handed 
it  to  the  sitting  figure  by  the  fire. 
Before  Gwen  could  remonstrate,  he 
was  gone,  and  she  heard  the  grind 
of  gears  as  the  old  truck  sped 
through  the  snow.  This  was  the 
last  straw— an  Indian  in  the  house 
was  bad  enough,  but  an  Indian  with 
a  gun  was  more  than  she  could 
stand.  Mrs.  Beaver  Charley  rose 
and  placed  the  gun  in  the  corner 
of  the  room,  then  quietly  oozed 
back  to  her  seat. 

Gwen  was  still  half  dazed  when 
her  daughter  returned  her  to  her 
duties.  "Mommy,  aren't  we  going  to 
have  any  supper?  Fm  hungry/'  and 
Bill  echoed,  "Fm  starving/' 

Every  time  the  children  spoke, 
the  Indian  woman  looked  at  them 
and  smiled.  Aside  from  that,  she 
might  have  been  a  bronze  statue, 
seated  near  the  fire  with  her  blanket 
draped  over  the  chair  where  it  had 
fallen  from  her  shoulders. 

Gwen  had  felt  all  the  color  drain 
from  her  face  when  she  first  saw 
the  stranger,  and  she  thought  now, 
with  my  blonde  hair,  I  must  look 
like  an  albino.  I  must  get  hold  of 
myself  for  the  children's  sake.  They 
must  not  be  frightened.  So  she 
bustled  about  preparing  the  even- 
ing meal,  hoping  they  would  notice 
nothing.  As  they  were  about  to  sit 
down,  she  asked  their  guest  to  join 
them,  but  the  invitation  was  met 
by  the  merest  shake  of  the  head. 

Susan  was  asked  to  say  grace, 
and  as  she  finished  the  blessing  on 
the  food  she  added,  "And  please 
help  Santa  Claus  to  get  through  the 
snow  tonight." 

Gwen's  heart  sank  because  she 
knew  that  even  with  the  help  of 
Abe  and  the  Indian,  Bill  could  not 
possibly  reach  home  until  tomorrow 
some  time,  and  that  would  be  too 
late  to  fill  the  stockings.  Later  the 
children  hung  up  their  stockings 
and  asked  Gwen  to  prepare  the 
usual  plate  of  cookies  and  glass  of 
milk  for  Santa  Claus,  all  with  their 
usual  enthusiasm,  and  she  felt  guilty 
because  she  was  helpless  to  dispel 
the  fear  and  gloom  that  engulfed 

After  they  had  gone  to  bed,  she 
asked  the  stolid  guest  if  she  would 
take  her  bed  while  she  watched  for 
the  return  of  their  men,  but  she 
was  greeted  again  by  silence  and  a 
head  shake.  She  had  no  idea  wheth- 
er or  not  she  was  understood  and  ig- 
nored, or  whether  this  woman  of 
another  race  could  not  understand 
her  at  all.  She  laid  a  large  log  on 
the  fire  to  keep  the  room  warm,  and 
nodding  her  good  night,  went  to 
her  own  room. 

(Continued  on  page  67) 

Replica  of  Yesteryear 

Cecil  G.  Pugmire 

^T~\EAR    God,    please    don't  three  of  them  burst  into  laughter. 

I   J   let    him    see    me    cry/'  The  train  hissed  impatiently  and 

silently      prayed      Alice,  gave   a   lurch   that   fairly   bumped 

amid  the  clamor  of  puffing  trains  Alice  and  Alex  from  the  train  plat- 

and  shouting  people.     The  bustle  form.     With  the  ease  of  a  young 

within  the  station  and  the  buoyancy  animal,  Ray  jumped  from  the  plat- 

of  the  youthful   crowd  stirred   no  form,  reached  up  a  helping  hand 

excitement  within  her  being,  rather  to  his  mother  and  helped  her  down, 

her  heart  hung  as  a  heavy  anchor  He  gave  Alice  a  quick  kiss,  grasped 

within  her  breast.  his  father's  hand,  swung  himself  on- 

The  green  lantern  flashed  at  the  to  the  moving  steps  and  shouted 

end  of  the  train  and  "All  Aboard"  something  which  sounded  like,  "It 

echoed  down  the  corridors  of  the  will  be  all  right  this  time."    Those 

track.     Ray's  friends,  one  by  one,  hastily  shouted  words  made  Alice 

dropped    from    the    hissing    train,  realize   that   Ray,    too,    had    never 

Ray's  arm   swooped   in   an   arc   of  ceased  grieving  for  Jim. 

farewell  as  he  shouted  across  the  Koieal  I  hate  the  word,  thought 

bedlam,  "So  long,  fellows,  see  you  Alice.  As  if  one  son  is  not  enough, 

when  the  war's  won!"  Her    hatred    had    no    particular 

Like  a  never-slumbering  refrain,  bearing  against  country  or  people, 

the  words  rang  in  Alice's  ears— the  It  was  the  word  she  hated.     The 

same   words    of   Jim    a   year   ago.  word  stabbed  as  a  knife.    It  left  a 

Replica     of     yesteryear,     thought  hopeless,  aching  pain.     There  was 

Alice.     Now  it's  my  baby.     Dear  no  relief  from  this  pain.  "Lost  over 

God,  he  must  not  see  me  cry.  Korea"  the  message  had  read. 

"Well,  Mom  and  Pop,  this  is  it!"  Alex  gripped  Alice's  arm.  To- 
Boyishly  he  took  his  father's  hand  gether  they  watched  the  train  be- 
and  his  free  arm  crept  around  his  come  a  diminishing  object,  leaving 
mother's  waist.  "Don't  worry,  I'll  only  a  cloud  of  smoke  rising  to- 
be  all  right."  ward  the  sky.    Seconds  passed.    As 

Alice  vainly  tried  to  think  of  the  train  and  earth  became  one, 
something  witty  to  ease  the  mo-  they  slowly  turned  and  silently 
ment  of  tension.  Her  mind  was  walked  toward  the  car.  Once  Alex 
dead  until  she  caught  Ray's  kiddish  slyly  raised  his  bifocals  and  wiped 
grin  as  his  white  teeth  flashed  in  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  hand, 
the  sun-browned  face.  Automatic-  almost  as  if  the  use  of  his  hand- 
ally,  probably  from  long  habit,  she  kerchief  might  call  too  much  at- 
said,  "Don't  forget  to  brush  your  tention  to  the  act. 
teeth."  Inside  the  car,  Alice  gave  way  to 

"When    I'm   an   old   man   with  the  tears  she  had  struggled  so  long 

gummers,    you    will    still    tell    me  not  to  shed. 

that,     Mom."     Momentarily     the  "Now,  now,  Mother,"  comforted 

tense  moment  was  broken,  and  the  Alex.      Patting    her    shoulder,    he 
Page  38 


pulled   his   handkerchief   from   his  The  days  crawled  by  on  tortoise 

pocket,  wiped  his  eyes,  and  put  the  legs  and  slowly  turned  into  months, 

handkerchief  into  Alice's  hand.  broken    only    by    one    letter    from 

Ray.      This    letter    was    somewhat 

HpHE  weeks  slowly  passed,  bright-  cryptic,  carrying  no  details  nor  hint 

ened  only  by  Rays  letters.  In  of  boyish  gaiety,  but  said  he  was 

his  boyish,  scrawly  handwriting  he  well  pud  that  he  thought  of  them 

told  about  camp,  new  scenes,  and  often.    It  was  hard  to  read  between 

new  companions.     Alice  feverishly  the  lines. 

read  each  letter.  After  satisfying  Christmas  season  came  and  the 
herself  of  there  being  no  mention  town  was  dressed  in  festive  array 
of  "going  over,"  she  then  slowly  of  pine  and  holly,  sprinkled  gen- 
read  and  digested  each  detail  of  the  erously  with  a  robe  of  white  velvet, 
missives.  As  Alice  walked  through  the 
The  cheerfulness  and  gaiety  of  town  on  an  errand  she  thought 
Ray's  letters  seemed  to  push  her  that  each  house  told  its  story.  The 
fears  into  the  background.  When  homes  where  someone  was  away 
apprehension  seemed  to  be  lulled  were  decorated  very  meagerly— 
into  an  almost  forgotten  memory,  maybe  a  tiny  tree  could  be  glimpsed 
then  came  word  that  he  was  '  mov-  behind  the  curtain— sometimes  a 
ing  over."  simple  candle  gleamed  in  the  win- 
Alice  tried  to  overcome  the  feel-  dow.  At  these  homes  it  seemed 
ing  of  oppression  that  engulfed  the  hand  of  lavishness  had  been 
her.  She  knew  that  Alex  suffered  stayed  as  if  too  much  display  might 
beneath  his  seeming  cheerfulness,  be  a  mark  of  disloyalty  to  some 
For  this  reason  she  went  out  of  her  loved  one  far  away.  On  the  other 
way  to  be  gay  herself,  but  she  was  hand,  not  having  felt  the  emptintss 
always  left  with  the  feeling  that  of  a  loved  one's  absence,  the  for- 
she  had  not  played  her  part  sue-  tunate  homes  were  bedecked  with 
cessfully.  gaily  adorned  trees,  bright-tinseled 
She  ran  across  the  street  a  little  windows,  and  red-wreathed  doors, 
more  often  to  see  Mary  Hanks  and 

her  invalid  husband.    She  made  it  A  LEX  had  always  brought  home 

a  point  always  to  take  a  cake,  a  the  Christmas  tree.     Even  last 

pitcher  of  cool  juices,  or  something  year,   although   Jim  was  away,   he 

to    brighten    their    day.     But    she  had  carted  a  tree  home  from  the 

usually  came  away  with  the  feeling  corner  stand, 

that  she  had  not  really  eased  their  Christmas  will  be  the  hardest  of 

burden  and  she  still  had  the  weight  all,  thought  Alice.     She  would  be 

of  sorrow  in  her  heart.  able   to   carry   the   tree   decorating 

In  her  struggle   to  analyze  this  off  with  a  show  of  enjoyment,  if 

feeling  and  fight  against  it  she  re-  it  just  were  not  for  the  part  about 

membered    her    grandmother    say-  the  candles.     The  candles  worried 

ing  that  those  who  seemed  happiest  Alice  most  of  all.  She  remembered 

very  often  had  the  greatest  sorrow  last  year,  and  how  Ray  had  cleared 

to  bear.  (Continued  on  Dage  68) 

lYLn   ibasy    JJress 



for   daughter 

Celia  Luce 

Photograph  by  Willard  Luce 

TF  you  are  a  busy  mother,  here  is  just  the  apron  or  summer  play  dress  for  your  daughter 
■*•  one  to  three  years  old.  It  can  be  made  in  a  hurry  and  takes  only  a  small  piece  of 
material.    For  ironing,  it  pulls  into  a  flat  piece  of  cloth  that  takes  only  a  jiffy  to  iron. 

First,  measure  your  daughter  from  neck  to  hemline.  Add  about  three-fourths 
inch  for  the  neck  hem  and  enough  for  the  desired  width  of  the  bottom  hem.  Add 
one  inch  for  the  drawstring,  and  two  inches  for  the  sleeve  ruffle,  if  the  ruffle  is  to  be 
made  of  the  same  material.  (The  sleeve  ruffle  and  pocket  may  be  made  of  contrasting 
material.)  This  total  will  be  the  exact  number  of  inches  of  material  you  need,  with 
no  waste.  If  matching  panties  are  to  be  made  to  complete  the  ensemble,  buy  addi- 
tional material  for  the  panties. 






b    ! 



















Page  40 


Before  cutting  the  dress,  tear  or  cut  off  a  one-inch  piece  and  sew  it  into  a 
drawstring.  Cut  off  a  two  inch  strip  for  the  sleeve  ruffles,  if  sleeve  ruffles  are  to  be 
made  of  the  same  material.  Make  the  ruffles.  To  cut  the  dress,  measure  five  and  one 
half  inches  in  from  the  selvage  of  the  material,  and  make  a  dot.  Measure  six  inches 
in  from  this  dot  and  three  and  one-half  inches  down  from  the  top,  and  make  a  second 
dot.  These  dots  mark  the  sides  of  the  sleeve.  Place  a  saucer  between  the  dots  and 
draw  the  arc  swinging  down  between  the  dots.  The  arc  should  be  about  one  and  one- 
fourth  inches  deep,  which  would  make  the  center  of  the  arc  about  four  and  three- 
fourths  inches  from  the  top  of  the  material.     Cut  along  the  arc  for  the  sleeve  hole. 

Fold  the  material,  placing  the  selvage  sides  together,  and  cut  the  other  sleeve  hole, 
using  the  one  already  cut  as  a  guide.  Put  a  one-fourth  inch  hem  in  the  bottom  of 
the  sleeve  hole  and  sew  the  ruffle  onto  the  top  of  the  sleeve  hole.  Sew  the  selvage 
sides  together  from  top  to  bottom.  Put  a  three-fourths  inch  hem  in  the  top  of  the 
dress,  and  insert  the  drawstring.  Tie  a  knot  in  each  end  of  the  drawstring  to  keep  it 
from  pulling  out.  Add  a  pocket  of  the  same,  or  contrasting  material,  if  you  wish.  Hem 
the  bottom,  and  the  apron  is  finished. 

If  you  wish  your  daughter  to  wear  this  as  a  play  apron  over  a  dress,  the  material 
could  be  arranged  so  that  the  opening  will  be  left  unstitched  down  the  middle  of  the 
back.  If  used  as  an  apron,  it  may  be  made  to  fit  a  larger  child. 

»  ♦ 

Through  This  Door 

Chapter  6  (Conclusion) 

Margery  S.  Stewart 

SHE  came  to  me  and  hugged  his  scoffing  that  he  had  never  felt 

me.  "Of  course  I  want  you.  better  in   his   life.     There  was   a 

By  the  way,  Chris  is  coming  grayness  in  his  skin  that  I  didn't 

tonight  for  a  week's  visit."  like,  and  he  had  a  way  of  stopping 

"That's  nice,"  I  said.    But  I  had  suddenly  and   leaning   against   the 

no  desire  to  see  him  or  anyone  for  wall.  . 

that  matter.    I  wanted  to  be  alone,  On  Wednesday  night,  we  were 

to  think  about  Tom  and  remember,  just  finishing  the  ceiling  of  the  liv- 

Dad  came  home  that  night  with  ing  room,  Dad  dropped  to  the  floor 

rolls   and   rolls    of   wallpaper   and  as  though  he  had  been  stoned.  His 

buckets  of  paint.     He  grinned  at  face  was  ashen,  and  he  caught  at 

me.    "Well,  as  long  as  you're  going  his  side.    "Been  hurting  off  and  on 

to  be  home,  Mary  Ruth,  we  better  all    day,"    he    panted,    "made    me 

fix  it  up  a  bit  for  you."  sick  .  .  .'  ."  He  stopped  talking  and 

"I'll  help  you,"  I  said.    I  was  glad  doubled  up. 

of  the  work,  it  seemed  to  take  the  I  stood  above  him,  wringing  my 

strangeness  that  was  in  me  and  let  hands  helplessly.  "What  shall  I  do, 

it  work  out  through  my  fingertips,  Dad?    What  shall  I  do?" 

so  that  when  the  sweeping  agony  He  shook  his  head,  his  forehead 

of  loss  came,  I  could  work  savagely,  clammy  with  sweat, 

and  somehow  it  eased  the  pain.  Because  I  must  do  something,  I 

I  didn't  like  to  have  Dad  work-  ran  for  the  hot  water  bottle  and 

ing  so  hard,   though.    Even   with  laid  it  against  his  side.    It  had  eased 


countless     stomach-aches     in     the  floors.     I  looked  at  the  floors  and 

young  ones.  something  dimly  familiar  stirred  in 

''Better    call    a     doctor,"     Dad  my  mind.     The  rumpus  room  at 

gasped.  Thelma  Williams'  house.  The  Sat- 

Now  I  was  really  frightened.     I  urday   morning   job   of   scrubbing, 

called  Doctor  Townsend  in  Hill-  waxing,      polishing     the     endless 

town.    He  wasn't  in.    I  brought  a  squares  of  green  and  white.  It  was 

pillow  for  Dad's  head,  and  another  so  senseless  .  .  .  week  after  week, 

hot  water  bottle  for  his  side.    He  Senseless  ....  Something,  like  elec- 

twisted  in  new  pain,  and,  in  panic,  tricity  shocked  through  me. 

I  raced  over  to  Mrs.  Marriott's.  But  suppose,   oh,   just  suppose, 

Chris  was  there.    He  made  me  Mary  Ruth,   that  it  hadn't  been 

sit  down  and  repeat  slowly  every  senseless.     Suppose  it  had  been  a 

symptom.  gentle   leading   along    to    this,    to 

"What  have  you  done?"  He  was  these  shining  halls,  these  immacu- 
already  reaching  for  his  jacket  on  ]ate  rooms   that  housed  so   many 
the  back  of  the  chair.  sufferers.     I  felt  waves  of  under- 
lining,   just    put    some    hot  standing  sweep  through  me.  Take 
water  bottles  on  him."  a  giri  like  me  .  .  .  who  had  never 

"Good  grief,  girl!"  Chris  Jordan  had  the  slightest  training,  brought 

regarded  me  in  horror.  Up  to  do  things  when  she  liked  to 

UE  sprinted  down  the  path  and  do  them.  .  .  .  Oh,  of  course,  there 

n  across  the  street.  Mrs.  Marriott  had  been  the  meals  to  get  on  time, 

and  I  following  as  fast  as  we  could,  and  the  washing  and  ironing  to  do 

But  he  was  on  the  way  to  the  kitch-  every  week-    But  l  had  done  them 

en,  when  we  came  in  the  front  door,  whenever  I  chose  to  do  them.  Take 

unscrewing  the  tops  of  the  offend-  a  girl  like  that,  and  set  her  down 

ing  rubber  bags  as  he  went.  in  the  exact  discipline  of  the  hos- 

"If    it's    appendicitis,"    he.  said  pital.     Would  she  come  through 

crisply,  "that's  a  wonderful  way  to  as  well?    The  hours  at  Thelma  Wil- 

have  it  burst."  liams  ran  before  my  mind.     The 

"Oh  no."  rising    and    the    carefully    allotted 

"Where  is  your  icebox?  Maybe  hours  for  this  task  and  that.    They 

you  could  chip  some  ice  for  me."  hadn't  been  in  vain.    I'knew  it  now. 

I  stumbled  out  to  the  porch  and  It  was  a  long  night  and  a  fright- 
picked  up  the  ice  pick,  hacked  sav-  ening  one.  I  sat  with  Mrs.  Mar- 
agely  away  at  the  frozen  crystals.  riott  outside  the   operating   room 

Afterwards  we  drove  Dad  to  Hill-  and   waited   through   interminable 

town  and  left  him  in  a  room  at  hours,  until  at  last  they  wheeled 

West  Valley  Hospital,  while  Chris  him  out,  and  Chris,   still  in  the 

went    out    searching    for    Doctor  white   clothes   and   mask   he   had 

Townsend,  and  Mrs.  Marriott  and  worn  to  watch  the  operation,  came 

I  paced  the  halls.  to  stand  before  us.    Dad  was  going 

Nurses   went   past   us    in    their  to  be  all  right.     I   took  a  deep 

rustling  white  uniforms,  their  white  breath.     But  it  was  going  to  take 

shoes    soundless    on    the    polished  a   longer   time   than   normally   to 


convalesce,  because  his  heart  wasn't 
as  strong  as  it  should  be.  He  would 
need  good  nursing. 

"But  you  can  give  him  that/' 
Mrs.  Marriott  said. 

I  avoided  Chris  Jordan's  eyes. 
The  hot  water  bottle  was  a  mistake 
that  anyone  could  make.  I  could 
learn.  I  had  a  reason  for  staying 
home  now,  there  would  always  be 
a  reason  for  never  pushing  open  the 
door.  No  one  else  knew  that  Aunt 
Mercedes  was  a  wonderful  practical 
nurse.    No  one  around  here. 

I  said  to  Chris  Jordan,  "If  you 
hadn't  been  there,  if  you  hadn't 
known  what  to  do  .  .  .  hadn't 
guessed  what  was  wrong  .  .  .  ."  My 
voice  broke,  and  Mrs.  Marriott 
reached  out  and  gathered  me  close. 

"You  did  what  you  could.  The 
best  you  knew  how  to  do." 

"But  it  wasn't  enough  to  want 
to  help  ...  it  wasn't  enough." 

I  couldn't  stop  crying.  But  I 
made  the  words  come  out.  "I'm 
going  back.  I'm  going  through 
that  door.    I'm  going  back." 

She  let  me  cry  all  the  tears  I  had 
not  been  able  to  shed  before  this 
night.  I  thought  of  all  the  times 
she  had  held  my  hand  like  this.  I 
knew  suddenly  why  she  had  come 
to  live  among  us.  She  was  like  a 
river,  clean  and  beautiful,  flowing 
into  the  rivers  of  our  lives,  making 
them  stronger  and  lovelier  because 
she  was  the  way  she  was. 

"Everyone  who  goes  through  this 
door,"  she  said,  "will  know  how  to 
help  another  through  it." 

Chris  turned  to  us.  "What  are 
you  talking  about.  Doors?  Doors? 
What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  wouldn't  know  if  we  told 
you,"  Mrs.  Marriott  said.  But  she 
was  only  teasing  him.  .  .  . 


'pODAY  I  was  moved  back  to  the 
nursery.  It  is  the  one  place  in 
the  hospital  I  love  beyond  all  oth- 
ers. The  babies  were  adorable,  as 
always,  fat  ones,  thin  ones,  dimpled 
ones,  red  ones  .  .  .  their  little  wrink- 
ling faces  and  reaching  hands 
caught  at  my  heart,  as  they  had 
always  done.  Some  of  them  already 
marked  for  sorrow,  as  the  tiniest 
little  girl  in  the  corner,  whose 
mother  died  this  morning,  or  the 
little  Graciano  baby,  with  the  twist- 
ed leg.  But  most  of  them  were  fat 
little  pigeons,  the  objects  of  adora- 
tion of  mothers,  fathers,  grandpar- 
ents, and  assorted  aunts  and  uncles. 

Someone  rattled  the  nursery 
knob.  I  looked  up,  frowning.  Only 
the  doctors  and  nurses  were  per- 
mitted here.  But  it  was  a  doctor, 
complefe  with  mask  and  white  coat 
and  furrowed  brow. 

I  flew  to  open  the  door.  "They 
are  doing  very  well,  Doctor  .  .  .  only 
the  little  Graciano  baby  ....  Isn't 
there  anything  we  can  do?" 

"He's  the  one  I  came,  to  see, 
Mary  Ruth." 

Mary  Ruth?  I  looked  again  at 
the  black  shining  eyes.  "Chris  Jor- 
dan! Doctor  Jordan.  Oh,  how 
wonderful!  What  are  you  doing 

"Working.  They  took  me  in  at 
the  Smithson  Clinic.  I  started  yes- 
terday." He  looked  me  up  and 
down.  "I  always  knew  you'd  look 
like  this  in  your  cap." 

"I  .  .  .  I  .  .  .  thank  you,  Doctor 

He  looked  around  the  nursery. 
"Only  twenty?" 

"Twenty-four    in    a    few    more 


(Continued  on  page  71) 

From  The  Field 

Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  oi  Instructions,  page  123. 


Photograph   submitted    by    Melba    H.    Tullis 


Left  to  right:  Secretary  Mazie  Christensen;  Second  Counselor  Nancy  Mar  Cald- 
well; work  meeting  leader  Rose  Roberts;  President  Bertha  Richards;  First  Counselor 
Mildred  Mansfield. 

Sister  Melba  H.  Tullis,  Secretary,  Uintah  Stake  Relief  Society,  reports  that  the 
Maeser  Second  Ward  was  organized  June  3,  1951,  and  under  direction  of  the  new 
Relief  Society  officers,  the  first  project,  a  decorative  quilt,  was  completed. 

Muriel  S.  Wallis  is  president  of  Uintah  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Page  44 



Photograph    submitted    by    Iva    Dean    Fjeldsted 


Forty-four  visiting  teachers  in  Gunnison  Stake  achieved  a  100  per  cent  record 
during  the  past  year.  This  picture  was  taken  at  the  visiting  teachers  convention  Sep- 
tember 21,  1951.  Elizabeth  Frandsen,  visiting  teacher  message  leader,  is  standing 
sixth  from  the  left  on  the  second  row. 

Iva  Dean  Fjeldsted  is  president  of  Gunnison  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph   submitted   by    Virginia    K.    Campbell 


Front  row,  left  to  right:  Mary  Patterson,  chorister;  Elinor  Mason;  Maude  Reed; 
Mary  Anglesey;  Fern  Rhodes;  Stella  Walker;  Alice  Anglesey;  Charlotte  Brown,  organist. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Sarah  Anthony;  Adilia  Clark;  Jessie  Morgan;  Harriett 
Lovell;  Eileen  Madsen;  Elva  Smout. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Virginia  K.  Campbell;  Evelyn  Graham;  Jessie  Olsen; 
Naomi  Butikofer;  Ethel  Johnson. 

Virginia  K.  Campbell  is  president  of  East  Rigby  Stake  Relief  Society, 




Photograph  submitted  by  Velma  Hoover 

CLOSING  SOCIAL,  May  1951 

Upper  right-hand  corner,  seated:  Secretary  Lorea  Binks;  upper  right-hand  corner, 
standing,  President  Velma  Hoover;  standing  next  to  Sister  Hoover,  First  Counselor 
Thelma  Williamson;  second  row,  seated,  third  from  left:  Second  Counselor  Merla 

The  Sunset  Ward  of  West  Utah  Stake  was  organized  in  January  1946.  Since 
that  time  the  sisters  have  made  an  outstanding  record  in  Relief  Society  work.  They 
have  achieved  100  per  cent  in  their  visiting  teaching,  paid  membership,  and  Magazine 
subscriptions.  They  have  four  volumes  of  Relief  Society  Magazines  bound,  and  they 
have  purchased  dishes,  silverware,  an  electric  sewing  machine,  ironing  board,  steam 
iron,  tablecloths,  and  other  equipment. 

Rose  Goates  is  president  of  West  Utah  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph    submitted    by    Hattie    S.    Shurtz 


Front  row,  left  to  right:  Roziel  Beals;  Zela  McBride;  Jane  Mattice;  Rilla  Redd; 
Donna  Draper,  Wyona  Bryce. 



Second  row,  left  to  right:  Norma  Bryce;  Emma  McBride;  Edith  Holladay;  Laura 
Lines;  Caroline  Eyring;  Ella  Cluff;  Mary  McBride;  Grace  Larson;  Fidelia  Taylor. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Josephine  Follett;  Lucile  Boyle;  Bell  Stewart;  Debra 
Dean;  May  Weech;  Ella  Blake;  Susie  Crockett;  Angeline  Alder;  Dora  Kight;  Ethel 
Carter;  Vinnie  Marshall;  Lucile  Taylor. 

Back  row,  left  to  right:  Vivian  Reynolds;  Rose  Weech;  Hannah  Allen;  Alice 
Hawes;  Josephine  Carter;  Elda  Johnson;  Pearl  Cluff;  Myrtle  Saline;  Iris  Mattice; 
Ruth  Marshall. 

Clella  Lines  is  president  of  Pima  Ward  Relief  Society,  and  Hattie  S.  Shurtz  is 
president  of  St.  Joseph  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph    submitted    by    LaPriel    R.    Eyre 


Shown  in  the  photograph  are  children  of  the  Hamilton  Branch  wearing  clothing 
they  modeled  in  a  children's  summer  fashion  show  held  by  the  Relief  Society.  Sister 
Emma  Hillman  was  the  fashion  commentator.  Sister  LaPriel  R.  Eyre,  former  President, 
Canadian  Mission  Relief  Society,  reports  that  all  the  clothing  shown  in  this  photo- 
graph was  made  by  the  Relief  Society  sisters  under  the  capable  direction  of  Sister 
Emily  Barlow,  work  meeting  leader,  and  Sister  Grace  Scott,  First  Counselor,  who  are 
shown  in  the  photograph  with  the  children.  The  project  had  a  two-fold  purpose: 
1.  To  bring  well-made  clothing  to  the  sisters  for  their  children  at  a  savings  to  their 
budgets;  i.  to  interest  the  sisters  in  sewing  for  their  own  needs. 

Anna  H.  Toone  is  the  recently  appointed  president  of  the  Canadian  Mission 
Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Ellen  Johnson 



Seated  at  the  sewing  machine,  Jean  Dutchi,  and  at  her  left  Anna  Lee  Rabbit 
(small  child). 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Claudia  Shumway;  Jenny  Lehi;  Lillian  Rabbit; 
Rebecca  Palmer,  missionary. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Esther  Shumway,  missionary;  Ellen  Johnson, 
stake  supervisor  of  Indian  Relief  Societies;  Mary  Ann  Jones,  Counselor  to  Sister 

Margie  H.  Lyman  is  president  of  San  Juan  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph    submitted    by    Winniefred    Manwaring 




Front  row,  left  to  right:  Elizabeth  Spafford;  Effie  Greene;  Vida  Adamson;  Mildred 



Second  row,  left  to  right:  Sallie  Keate;  Second  Counselor  Alice  Asper;  President 
Phoebe  Booth,  First  Counselor  Lenora  Durrant. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Secretary-Treasurer  Doris  Watts;  Isabella  Kippen;  Laura 
Bargeron;  Zina  Wilkinson;  May  Brinton;  Susan  Mitchell;  Delia  Durham;  Lula  Sealy; 
Alice  Ross;  Mary  Harker  and  granddaughter. 

Fourth  row,  left  to  right:  Marie  Neumann;  Maude  Lyons;  Grace  Johnson;  Elva 
Broadhead;  Minerva  Homer;  Polly  Griffin;  Dolly  Schofield;  Luella  Wilkinson;  Anna 
Fotheringham;  Lila  Whitehead;  Cordelia  Griggs;  Alice  Fishier;  Annie  Cooper;  Lucile 
Griffiths;  Ella  Groesbeck;  Clara  Stephens  and  granddaughter. 

Winniefred  Manwaring  is  president  of  Emigration  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph    submitted    by    Maybell    Stevenson 


Left  to  right:  President  Lila  Cheney  and  her  five  children;  First  Counselor  Glenna 
Jenks  and  her  four  children;  Second  Counselor  Billy  Jensen  and  four  children;  Secre- 
tary Ellen  Bailey  and  four  children. 

President  Lila  Cheney  writes,  with  reference  to  young  mothers  and  their  attendance 
at  Relief  Society  meetings:  "We  feel  that  our  children  are  a  blessing  to  us  in  our 
Relief  Society  work,  rather  than  a  handicap." 

Katherine  Barnes  is  president  of  Minidoka  Stake  Relief  Society. 



oraing  oong 

Vesta   N.   Lukei 

A  single  pebble  of  spoken   thought 
Dropped  in  the  pool  of  life  will  start 
Expanding  surface  ripples,  while 
The  stone  lies  secret  in  the  heart. 



Q/heology — Characters  and  Teachings  of  The  Book 

of  Mormon 

Lesson  7— The  Formation  and  Dispersion  of  the  House  of  Israel 

Elder  Lehnd  H.  Monson 

For  Tuesday,  April  1,  1952 

Objective:  To  gain  an  understanding  of  events  which  transpired  in  the  Old 
World  between  the  time  of  the  Jaredite  migration  to  the  promised  land  and  that  of 
Lehi  and  his  followers. 

HPHIS  lesson  portrays  the  historical 
happenings  which  transpired 
in  the  Old  World  between  the  time 
the  Jaredites  left  and  Lehi  left,  a 
length  of  time  of  about  1600  years. 

According  to  Biblical  chronology, 
the  Jaredites  left  the  tower  of  Babel 
in  the  Euphrates  Valley  about  2247 
B.C.,  and,  under  God's  direction, 
migrated  to  the  land  of  promise. 
These  Jaredites,  in  time,  became 
ripened  in  iniquity,  refused  to  wor- 
ship Jesus  Christ,  and  were  utter- 
ly destroyed.  God  saw  fit  in  about 
600  b.c.  to  bring  a  new  colony  to 
the  land  of  promise  under  the 
leadership  of  Lehi,  a  prophet  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  king  Zedekiah  of 
the  kingdom  of  Judah. 

During  the  long  interval  between 
the  migration  of  the  Jaredites  from 
the  tower  of  Babel  and  the  voyage 
of  the  colony  of  Lehi  from  Jerusa- 
lem, the  house  of  Israel  was  nur- 
tured in  the  "Fertile  Crescent"  and 
dispersed  upon  the  face  of  the  earth. 
The  historian,  James  H.  Breasted, 
defines  the  Fertile  Crescent  as: 

.  .  .  approximately  a  semi  circle  or  ter- 
ritory   with    the    open    side    toward    the 

Page  50 

south,  having  the  west  end  at  the  south- 
east corner  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  cen- 
ter directly  north  of  Arabia,  and  the  east 
end  at  the  north  end  of  the  Persian  Gulf. 
It  lies  like  an  army  facing  south,  with 
one  wing  stretching  along  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  Mediterranean  and  the  other 
reaching  out  to  the  Persian  Gulf,  while 
the  center  has  its  back  against  the  north- 
ern mountains.  The  end  of  the  western 
wing  is  Palestine;  Assyria  makes  up  a 
large  part  of  the  center;  while  the  end 
of  the  eastern  wing  is  Babylonia  (Breas- 
ted, James  H.: Ancient  Times,  A  History 
oi  the  Early  World,  page  101). 

The  Tigris  and  Euphrates  rivers 
run  through  this  eastern  territory. 
The  earliest  civilization  in  the  Tig- 
ris-Euphrates history  was  built  in 
the  lower  valley  where  the  two  riv- 
ers empty  into  the  Persian  Gulf.  A 
fertile  plain,  seldom  over  forty  miles 
wide,  extends  between  the  two  riv- 
ers for  about  170  miles  in  a  north- 
westerly direction.  On  this  plain 
of  Shinar  the  Babylonian  civiliza- 
tion was  built  after  2100  b.c. 

The  Assyrian  civilization  was 
built  on  the  Tigris  River  in  the 
northeast  part  of  the  Fertile  Cres- 
cent. Fertile  valleys  extended  up  in- 
to the  eastern  and  northern  moun- 



tains.  In  early  times  this  territory 
was  subject  to  the  rule  of  Babylonia 
and  the  Hittites.  "By  700  B.C.  the 
Assyrian  Empire  included  all  of 
the  Fertile  Crescent"   (Ibid.,  page 


The  great  Chaldean  civilization 
represented  an  empire  in  the  old 
Babylonian  territory  between  the 
Tigris  and  Euphrates  and  stretching 
northwest  up  the  rivers.  Babylon 
became  the  capital.  Nebuchadnez- 
zar, greatest  of  the  Chaldean  em- 
perors, began  his  forty  year  reign 
604  b.c,  according  to  Breasted.  He 
destroyed  Jerusalem  about  586  B.C. 
and  took  many  Hebrew  captives 
to  Babylonia. 

It  was  contemporaneous  with 
these  civilizations  in  the  Fertile 
Crescent  that  the  Lord  formed  and 
dispersed  the  house  of  Israel.  In 
the  twentieth  century  b.c.  Terah, 
Abraham's  father,  was  living  in  the 
land  of  Ur,  of  the  Chaldees.  He 
had  departed  from  the  ways  of 
righteousness  and  had  been  follow- 
ing the  practices  of  the  heathens 
who  offered  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren as  sacrifices  to  their  idols.  In 
connection  with  one  of  these  sacri- 
fices the  heathen  priests  planned  to 
use  Abraham  as  the  sacrificial  vic- 

During  the  time  they  were  pre- 
paring him  for  the  sacrifice,  Abra- 
ham petitioned  the  Lord  for  help, 
and  in  answer  heard  his  voice,  say- 

Abraham,  Abraham,  behold,  my  name 
is  Jehovah,  and  I  have  heard  thee,  and 
have  come  down  to  deliver  thee,  and  to 
take  thee  away  from  thy  father's  house, 
and  from  all  thy  kinsfolk,  into  a  strange 
land  which  thou  knowest  not  of  .  .  . 
Behold,  I  will  lead  thee  by  my  hand,  and 
I  will  take  thee,  to  put  upon  thee  my 
name,  even  the  Priesthood  of  thy  father, 

and  my  power  shall  be  over  thee  (Pearl 
of  Great  Price,  Abraham  1:16,  18). 

Abraham  left  that  land  for  the 
land  of  Canaan  (Palestine)  with 
his  wife  Sarai;  his  brother's  son,  Lot, 
and  his  wife.  Later,  Abraham's  fa- 
ther joined  hin\  in  the  land  they 
called  Haran.  Terah  remained  in 
Haran,  where  there  were  many 
flocks,  and  again  drifted  into 
idolatrous  practices;  but  Abraham, 
warned  of  the  Lord,  departed  to 
another  land.  The  Lord  said  to 
Abraham : 

Arise,  and  take  Lot  with  thee;  for  I 
have  purposed  to  take  thee  away  out  of 
Haran,  and  to  make  of  thee  a  minister 
to  bear  my  name  in  a  strange  land  which 
I  will  give  unto  thy  seed  after  thee  for  an 
everlasting  possession,  when  they  heark- 
en to  my  voice.  .  .  .  And  I  will  make  of 
thee  a  great  nation,  and  I  will  bless  thee 
above  measure,  and  make  thy  name  great 
among  all  nations,  and  thou  shalt  be  a 
blessing  unto  thy  seed,  after  thee,  that 
in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  this  min- 
istry and  Priesthood  unto  all  nations 
(Pearl  of  Great  Price,  Abraham  2:6,  9). 

Obedient  to  the  instructions  of 
the  Lord,  Abraham  departed  for  the 
land  of  Canaan  with  his  wife  Sarai, 
Lot,  and  "the  souls  that  we  had 
won  in  Haran."  Abraham  sacri- 
ficed and  prayed  to  the  Lord  as  they 
came  into  the  land  of  Canaan, 
which  was  occupied  by  an  idolatrous 
nation.  The  Lord  appeared  to  him 
and  said,  "Unto  thy  seed  will  I  give 
this  land"  (Abraham  2:19). 

Because  of  a  famine  in  Canaan, 
Abraham  concluded  to  go  to  Egypt. 
Before  Abraham  entered  Egypt,  the 
Lord  instructed  him  concerning 
heavenly  bodies,  the  creation  of  the 
world,  and  the  pre-existent  status 
of  the  spirits  of  men  (Pearl  of 
Great  Price,  Abraham,  chapters  3, 

4>  5)- 



Preceding  the  time  of  his  en- 
trance into  the  land  of  Canaan,  Je- 
hovah gave  to  Abraham  a  special 
blessing  of  the  Priesthood,  saying 
that  "in  thee  (that  is,  in  thy  Priest- 
hood) and  in  thy  seed  (that  is,  thy 
Priesthood)  .  .  .  shall  all  the  fami- 
lies of  the  earth  be  blessed,  even 
with  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel, 
which  are  the  blessings  of  salvation, 
even  of  life  eternal"  (Abraham 
2:11).  This,  of  course,  is  only  one 
part  of  the  covenant  which  Jehovah 
had  made  with  Abraham.  The 
complete  terms  of  the  covenant 
may  be  summarized  as  follows :  ( 1 ) 
Abraham  was  to  be  a  great  nation, 
(2)  through  him  all  the  families  of 
the  earth  were  to  be  blessed,  (3) 
his  descendants  were  to  inherit-  Pal- 
estine as  an  everlasting  possession, 
(4)  his  descendants  were  to  be  as 
numerous  as  the  dust  of  the  earth 
or  the  stars  of  heaven,  (5)  kings 
and  nations  were  to  come  of  his 
descendants,  (6)  the  covenant  he 
made  with  God  was  to  be  an  ever- 
lasting one  or,  as  we  would  say,  a 
gospel  covenant.  (Speery,  Sidney: 
The  Spirit  of  the  Old  Testament, 
page  22;  cf.  Pearl  of  Great  Price, 
Abraham,  chapter  2). 

The  covenant  was  confirmed  to 
Isaac  and  to  Jacob,  son  and  grand- 
son of  Abraham  (Genesis  12:1-3; 
17:1-8;  26:3,  4;  28:13-15).  The  fol- 
lowing passage  from  Genesis,  a  mes- 
sage from  the  Lord  to  Rebecca, 
mother  of  Jacob,  implies  that  Jac- 
ob was  foreordained  to  be  the  lead- 
er in  Isaac's  house. 

Two  nations  are  in  thy  womb,  and 
two  manner  of  people  shall  be  separated 
from  thy  bowels;  and  the  one  people 
shall  be  stronger  than  the  other  people; 
and  the  elder  shall  serve  the  younger 
(Genesis  25:23). 

Jacob  obtained  the  birthright  and 
blessing  from  Isaac,  and  became  the 
father  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 
The  first  time  this  name,  Israel, 
appears  in  the  Bible  it  is  as  a  title 
given  to  Jacob.  From  a  heavenly 
visitor,  to  whom  he  appealed  for  a 
blessing,  he  received  the  promise: 

Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more 
Jacob,  but  Israel:  for  as  a  prince  hast 
thou  power  with  God,  and  with  men, 
and  hast  prevailed  (Genesis  32:28). 

Later  the  title  acquired  a  broader 
application,  and  was  applied  to  the 
posterity  of  Abraham  through  the 
loins  of  Isaac  and  Jacob. 

The  twelve  tribes  of  Israel  accept- 
ed this  title  throughout  the  four 
hundred  year  period  of  their  Egypt- 
ian bondage,  during  the  forty  years 
of  exodus  from  Egypt  to  the  land 
of  promise,  under  the  government 
provided  by  the  Judges,  and 
throughout  the  reigns  of  Saul,  Dav- 
id, and  Solomon. 

The  twelve  sons  of  Jacob,  who 
formed  the  children  of  Israel,  rep- 
resent offspring  from  four  women: 
Joseph  and  Benjamin  from  his  be- 
loved Rachel;  Reuben,  Simeon,  Le- 
vi, Judah,  Issachar,  and  Zebulun 
from  Leah;  Dan  and  Naphtali  from 
Bilhah;  and  Gad  and  Asher  from 

During  the  time  Joseph  was  in 
Egypt,  he  married  Asenath,  to 
whom  two  sons  were  born,  Manas- 
seh  and  Ephraim. 

Levi  was  chosen  to  have  the  Lord 
for  an  inheritance,  and  not  to  have 
an  inheritance  in  the  same  sense  as 
the  others.  (See  Numbers  8; 
18:20-24.)  With  Levi  eliminated, 
and  with  Joseph  represented  by  his 
two  sons,  Ephraim  and  Manasseh, 
we  have  the  twelve  leaders  of  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 



About  930  b.c.  the  kingdom  of 
Israel  was  divided.  Part  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin  and  the  tribe  of 
Judah  accepted  Rehoboam,  son  of 
Solomon,  as  their  king.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  tribes,  commonly 
called  the  Ten  Tribes,  chose  Jero- 
boam as  their  king.  This  latter 
group  was  called  the  kingdom  of 
Israel,  or  sometimes  the  kingdom 
of  Ephraim  from  its  most  promi- 
nent tribe. 

This  division  represents  the  be- 
ginning of  the  decline  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  as  a  united  political 
organization.  By  750  b.c.  the  As- 
syrians, located  in  the  northeast 
part  of  the  Fertile  Crescent,  began 
their  westward  expansion.  Damas- 
cus, after  much  desperate  resistance, 
was  slowly  crushed,  and  fell  in  732 
b.c.  The  countries  of  the  west 
were  soon  subdued  and  made  vas- 
sal nations.  By  700  b.c.  all  of  the 
Fertile  Crescent  was  included  in 
the  Assyrian  empire  (Breasted, 
James  H.:  Ancient  Times,  A  History 
of  the  Early  Woild,  pp.  151-155). 

It  was  about  721  b.c.  that  the 
kingdom  of  Israel,  the  Ten  Tribes, 
met  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  As- 
syrians, and  were  carried  away  as 
captives.  Since  then  they  have 
been  lost  to  history,  and  have  been 
designated  as  the  ten  lost  tribes. 

The  kingdom  of  Judah  had  an 
independent  existence  for  more 
than  a  century,  when  it  was  sub- 
dued about  586  b.c.  by  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, ruler  of  the  Chaldeans  in 
Babylon.  He  destroyed  Jerusalem 
and  carried  away  the  people  to  ex- 
ile in  Babylonia.  They  remained  in 
subjection  to  the  Chaldeans  for 
about  seventy  years  as  prophesied 
by  Jeremiah  (Jeremiah  25:11,  12; 

The  dispersion  of  Israel  was  now 
a  matter  of  fact,  though  the  Jews 
were  to  return  to  Jerusalem  and  to 
suffer  from  further  dispersion  sub- 
sequently. The  Ten  Tribes,  known 
as  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  under 
Assyrian  captivity,  had  gone  north 
and  were  lost  to  history.  The  king- 
dom of  Judah  was  in  Babylonian 
captivity,  under  Chaldean  oppres- 

The  destruction  of  the  Hebrew 
kingdom,  by  the  Assyrians  and 
Chaldeans  had  long  been  foreseen 
by  the  prophets  of  Israel.  In  the 
book  of  Isaiah  (about  700  b.c.)  is 
written  in  vivid  oriental  figures, 
"O  Assyrian,  the  rod  of  mine  anger, 
and  the  staff  in  their  hand  is  mine 
indignation"  (Isaiah  10:5),  which 
shows  that  Assyria  was  a  means  of 
smiting  the  Hebrews,  because  they 
were  unrighteous.  Jeremiah  had 
also  seen  and  prophesied  concerning 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  for  he 
had  foreseen  its  downfall. 

Immediately  preceding  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem  by  Neb- 
uchadnezzar and  the  captivity  of 
the  kingdom  of  Judah,  Lehi,  led  by 
a  divine  hand,  left  Jerusalem  for 
the  land  of  promise.  He  belonged 
to  the  tribe  of  Manasseh,  a  son  of 
Joseph.  He  took  with  him  Ishmael, 
who  was  a  descendant  of  Ephraim, 
another  son  of  Joseph.  The  new 
civilization  to  be  established  in  the 
land  of  promise  was  to  be  from  the 
loins  of  Joseph,  who  was  sold  into 
Egypt.  This  new  land  had  been 
given  as  an  everlasting  inheritance 
to  Joseph.  It  is  clearly  evident, 
then,  that  not  all  members  of  the 
Ten  Tribes  or  kingdom  of  Israel, 
went  north.  Representatives  of  the 
two  tribes  of  Joseph  became  the 
"fruitful    bough,    even    a    fruitful 



bough  by  a  well,  whose  branches 
run  over  the  wall"  (Genesis  49:22). 
You  may  recall  that  another  group 
also  came.  Mulek,  a  son  of  Zede- 
kiah, last  king  of  Judah,  was  brought 
to  the  promised  land.  We  read  in 
The  Book  of  Mormon:  Helaman 

And  now  will  you  dispute  that  Jerusa- 
lem was  destroyed?  Will  ye  say  that 
the  sons  of  Zedekiah  were  not  slain,  all 
except  it  were  Mulek?  Yea,  and  do  ye 
not  behold  that  the  seed  of  Zedekiah  are 
with  us,  and  they  were  driven  out  of  the 
land  of  Jerusalem?  (See  also  Jeremiah 

America  was  the  land  assigned 
to  Joseph  and  his  posterity,  and  the 
Lord  made  preparation  for  its  de- 
velopment. Lehi,  speaking  to  his 
son  Joseph,  who  was  a  descendant 
of  Joseph  in  Egypt,  said: 

And  great  were  the  covenants  of  the 
Lord     which     he     made     unto     Joseph. 

Wherefore,  Joseph  truly  saw  our  day. 
And  he  obtained  a  promise  of  the  Lord, 
that  out  of  the  fruit  of  his  loins  the  Lord 
God  would  raise  up  a  righteous  branch 
unto  the  house  of  Israel;  not  the  Messiah, 
but  a  branch  which  was  to  be  broken  off, 
nevertheless  to  be  remembered  in  the 
covenants  of  the  Lord  (II  Nephi  3:4,  5). 

Our  future  lessons  will  consider 
the  rise,  decline,  and  fall  of  this 
civilization.  It  flourished  in  the 
Americas  for  over  a  thousand  years. 

Suggested  Readings 

Pearl  of  Great  Price,  The  Book  of 

II  Nephi,  chapter  3. 

Questions  foi  Discussion 

1.  How  were  the  tribes  of  Israel 

2.  How  were  they  dispersed? 

3.  What  peoples  did  the  Lord  use  to 
scourge  Israel? 

Visiting  cJeacher  1 1  iessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  7— "I    Have   None   Other  Object  Save   It   Be   the   Everlasting 
Welfare  of  Your  Souls"  (2  Nephi  2:30). 

Leone  O.  Jacobs 

For  Tuesday,  April  1,  1952 

Objective:  To  help  us  appreciate  the  fact  that  there  are  many  people  who  are  in- 
terested in  our  everlasting  welfare. 

TN  this  text  Father  Lehi,  that  great 
Book  of  Mormon  prophet,  gives 
tender  and  solicitous  advice  to  his 
sons.  Truly  this  instruction  is  from 
the  heart  of  a  real  father,  for  an 
honest  parent  strives  to  the  best  of 
his  ability  to  instill  righteous  prin- 
ciples into  the  lives  of  his  children. 
Almost  all  fathers  and  mothers  have 

the  welfare  of  their  children  at 
heart,  so  far  as  they  understand  it. 
But  there  are  others,  in  addition 
to  parents,  who  have  our  everlasting 
welfare  at  heart.  How  gratifying  it 
is  to  know  this.  In  this  day  when 
selfishness  and  greed  are  manifest 
on  every  hand,  when  bribes  are  giv- 
en and  received  in  return  for  person- 



al  gain,  it  is  not  surprising  that  we 
become  suspicious  of  men— sus- 
picious that  they  may  have  ulterior 
motives  of  mind  in  their  dealings 
with  us. 

But  with  perfect  trust  we  can 
look  to  our  Heavenly  Father  and 
his  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  and  know 
that  they  have  none  other  object 
than  the  everlasting  welfare  of  our 
souls.  And  all  the  instruction  they 
have  given  us  or  will  give  us,  is  for 
our  everlasting  welfare. 

God's  representatives  on  earth  are 
also  interested  in  our  welfare.  Our 
present  prophet,  President  David 
O.  McKay,  who  stands  at  the  head 
of  our  Church,  is  deeply  concerned 
with  the  welfare  of  our  souls.  The 
General  Authorities  of  the  Church 
say  at  every  general  Church  con- 
ference, "I  have  none  other  object 
save  it  be  the  everlasting  welfare  of 
your  souls."    Presidents  of  stakes, 

bishops  of  wards,  Church  teachers 
and  leaders  also  share  in  this  feeling 
toward  their  fellow  men. 

Sometimes  we  hear  people  who 
have  become  discouraged  say,  "Oh, 
what's  the  use?  Nobody  cares  about 
me.  Nobody  cares  what  I  do  or 
what  becomes  of  me."  This  is  not 
true.  Someone  does  care.  All  these 
we  have  mentioned  care  deeply. 
And  if  we  could  only  make  these 
disheartened  ones  know  this,  it 
might  give  them  a  desire  to  con- 
tinue in  righteous  conduct.  And 
whenever  we  ourselves  become  de- 
spondent, let  us  recall  this  verse, 
repeat  it  over  and  over  again  until 
we  convince  ourselves  that  we  will 
go  steadfastly  on,  for  there  are  those 
who  care.  How  foolish  and  un- 
grateful we  are  if  we  do  not  hearken 
to  their  words  of  counsel,  for  if  we 
will  follow  their  teachings,  our 
everlasting  welfare  is  assured. 

vi/om    I/leettrig —  Sewing 

The  Art  of  Mending 

(A  Course  for  Optional  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  7— Sleeves,  Underarm  Patches,  and  Mending  Sheers 

Jean  Ridges  Jennings 

For  Tuesday,  April  8,  1952 
(Textbook:  The  Complete  Book  oi  Sewing,  by  Constance  Talbot.) 

CLEEVES  and  underarm  sections 
are  the  first  and  perhaps  the 
most  frequent  sources  of  wear  and 
strain  in  women's  clothes.  Count- 
less dresses  that  are  otherwise  in 
good  condition  are  needlessly  dis- 
carded because  of  worn-out,  torn- 
out,  or  uncomfortable  sleeves. 

Underarm  sections  of  dresses  and 
blouses  that  have  become  worn  or 

stained  can  be  patched  successfuly. 
If  only  a  small  patch  is  needed, 
set  in  a  shield-shaped  matching 
piece  of  material.  Set  the  patch  in 
under  the  arm,  matching  the  grain 
and  design  of  the  cloth  as  nearly  as 

Remember  when  you  cut  the 
patch  to  leave  a  double  seam  allow- 
ance on  the  patch  edge  to  be  sewed 



to  the  waist  material,  to  make  up 
for  the  seam  allowance  that  is  taken 
out  of  the  waist.  If  it  is  necessary 
to  patch  the  sleeve  as  well  as  the 
waist,  make  a  similar  shield-shaped 
patch.  Or  you  may  seam  in  a 
triangular  gusset. 

If  cloth  is  available,  a  panel  patch 
is  often  less  noticeable  and  takes 
care  of  worn  places  underarm  as 
well  as  pulled-out  places  in  back  of 
the  sleeve.  To  make  a  panel  patch, 
cut  out  the  affected  section,  from 
the  sleeve  to  the  waist.  Using  this 
as  a  pattern,  cut,  match  and  seam 
in  a  new  piece,  being  sure  to  allow 
a  double  seam  allowance  on  edges 
that  are  seamed  to  the  waist  itself. 

Material  for  these  patches  may 
be  obtained  from  scraps  of  self 
fabric  left  over  when  the  dress  was 
made  or  from  hems,  pockets,  or 
other  style  details  you  can  do  with- 
out. You  may  have  a  jacket  or 
bolero  you  can  use  in  order  to  save 
the  dress.  Or  you  may  shorten  long 
sleeves  and  use  the  cloth  thus  made 

"An  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth 
a  pound  of  cure"  is  especially  true 
in  the  case  of  tight  sleeves.  One  of 
the  hardest  troubles  to  remedy  is 
that  caused  when  sleeves  pull  out 
of  the  armseye.  Try  to  avoid  hav- 
ing this  happen  by  making  as  much 
room  as  possible  to  begin  with.  If 
there  is  some  tightness  or  pull,  let 
the  back  seam  of  the  sleeve  and 
armseye  out  as  much  as  possible 
and    then    strengthen    the    narrow 

seam  by  sewing  on  a  piece  of  seam 
tape  to  replace  the  seam  allowance. 

In  the  case  of  long  sleeves,  be 
sure  they  are  not  tight  between 
elbow  and  wrist,  as  this  often 
causes  pull  at  the  back  of  the  arm- 
hole.  After  sleeves  have  torn 
loose  at  the  back,  a  panel  patch  is 
the  best  remedy. 

When  sheer  clothes  need  mend- 
ing, inset  patches  as  described  in 
lesson  2— "Patching,"  are  the  most 
inconspicuous  and  satisfactory. 
Keep  seams  on  these  patches  as  nar- 
row as  possible  and  finish  their 
edges  with  false  French  seams.  A 
false  French  seam  is  made  by  fold- 
ing in  both  raw  edges  toward  the 
seam  line  and  blind  stitching  them 

Heavy  pins  or  brooches  worn  on 
sheer  dresses  and  blouses  sooner  or 
later  catch  yarns,  leaving  ragged 
holes.  Don't  wait  until  trouble  ap- 
pears to  do  something  about  it. 
Better  avoid  the  holes  by  working 
eyelets  where  pins  are  to  be  worn 
to  give  added  strength.  After  holes 
or  tears  appear,  mends  may  be  made 
with  small  hemmed  patches  or 
worked  eyelets,  depending  upon 
the  size  of  the  holes. 

Don't  take  chances  on  buttons  or 
snaps  pulling  loose  on  sheer  clothes 
and  leaving  unsightly  holes.  If  a 
fastener  has  to  stand  pull,  stay  it 
on  the  underside  with  a  piece  of 
tape,  ribbon  binding,  or  a  piece  of 
selvage  of  the  same  material  as  the 

KIND  WORDS:  Kind  words  are  benedictions.  They  are  not  only  instruments 
of  power,  but  of  benevolence  and  courtesy;  blessings  both  to  the  speaker  and  hearer 
of  them. — Woman's  Exponent 

JLiterature — The  Literature  of  England 

Lesson  23-William  Wordsworth  (1770-1850) 
Elder  Briant  S.  Jacobs 

For  Tuesday,  April  15,  1952 

AT  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth 
century  most  Englishmen  be- 
lieved in  God,  but  they  had  not  yet 
conceived  of  communing  with  him 
in  the  outdoor  temples  of  nature  as 
well  as  in  cathedral  and  parish 
church.  They  believed  in  England, 
but  with  a  growing  distrust  for  a 
king  who  seemed  not  overly  con- 
cerned about  the  menacing  political, 
industrial,  economic,  and  social 
problems  which  his  individual  sub- 
jects found  increasingly  difficult  to 
solve.  While  the  majority  of 
Englishmen  had  not  yet  given  voice 
to  the  inwardly  surging  concept  of 
democracy,  the  seeds  of  the  idea 
had  been  planted  by  Rousseau  and 
Locke  and  Godwin;  its  growth  and 
popularity  were  shown  by  the  en- 
thusiastic acclaim  with  which  many 
English  intellectuals  heralded  both 
the  American  and  the  French  Revo- 

During  the  severely  conservative 
movement  of  the  1790^,  the  landed 
aristocracy  of  England  followed  Ed- 
mund Burke's  belief— the  same 
Burke  who  had  championed  the 
rights  of  Englishmen  living  in  Bos- 
ton who  felt  they  had  been  wronged 
by  King  George  in  1774.  Now  he 
preached,  with  contagious  vehe- 
mence, that  the  cry  of  the  French 
radicals— ''Liberty,  Equality,  Fra- 
ternity"—voiced  a  philosophy  which 
would  destroy  England.  The  con- 
servative reaction  which  Burke  de- 
fined and  led,  thus  dominated  Eng- 
land for  more  than  forty  years.  Po- 

A  Perry  Picture 



litically  it  came  to  an  end  with  the 
passage  of  the  various  reform  laws. 
But  long  before  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1832  was  passed  by  a  jubilant  Parlia- 
ment, the  same  conviction  of  the 
high  virtues  which  characterized  the 
common  man  had  been  given  im- 
mortal birth  and  influence  through 
the  writings  of  William  Words- 
worth. He,  perhaps  more  than  any 
other,  came  to  shape  English  poetry 
and  philosophy  during  the  nine- 
teenth century.  It  was  largely 
through  his  influence  that  a  demo- 
cratic emphasis  dominated  the  po- 

Page  57 


etry  of  the  age,  thus  echoing,  some-  to  like  him  because  of  his  egotism, 

times  predicting,  a  companion  em-  yet  in  his  more  typical  moods  he  was 

phasis  in  politics  and  economics  and  most    tender    and    compassionate 

society.  (See  text,  pp.  10-12,  17-18,  concerning   all   his   acquaintances. 

29-31.)  Though  they  saw  his  weaknesses  he 

In  order  to  reconcile  the  apparent  was  more  often  loved  than  merely 
inconsistencies  which  we  find  in  his  respected.  Second,  many  of  his 
philosophy  and  his  writing,  we  must  works  bear  the  unmistakable  stamp 
understand  that  he,  like  many  of  of  genius  and  embody  all  the  great 
his  contemporaries,  was  in  his  youth  traditions  of  the  romantic  move- 
enthusiastically  radical,  but,  in  his  ment.  Early  in  life  he  dedicated 
later  years,  became  staunchly  con-  himself  to  the  cause  of  poetry,  and 
servative.  Then  he  feared  change;  his  overwhelming  sincerity,  both  to 
he  feared  also  the  possibility  that  his  calling  and  to  the  simple  yet 
the  reins  of  government  might  fall  sublime  truths  which  guided  his  life, 
into  the  hands  of  the  common  man  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  forces 
—the  two  principles  for  which  he  in  his  life. 

had  crusaded  most  vigorously  as  a  As  it  should  be,   it  is  Words- 
youth,  worth's  poems  which  convey  to  us 

Many  critics  have  proclaimed  the  true  greatness  and  significance 
Wordsworth  the  greatest  English  of  William  Wordsworth.  While  in 
poet  save  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  honesty  and  fairness  we  have  ac- 
Yet  of  the  forty-five  pages  devoted  knowledged  his  defects,  they  be- 
to  Wordsworth  in  our  text,  less  than  come  of  less  consequence  when  we 
one  page,  or  three  short  poems,  were  are  finally  led  to  an  understanding  of 
written  after  1880,  his  thirty-seventh  the  virtues  found  in  his  best  works, 
year  (he  lived  to  be  eighty).  He  is  Wordsworth  defined  himself  as 
generally  accepted  as  the  most  un-  being  a  poet  of  "simple  songs  for 
even  of  the  great  poets.  None  of  thinking  hearts."  Unadorned  sim- 
the  great  poets  wrote  more  poetry  plicity  indeed  is  basic  to"  every  phase 
which  was  justly  scorned  when  it  of  his  life  and  work,  whether  he  ad- 
was  first  published,  and  which  to-  vises  the  use  of  simple,  direct  lan- 
day  remains  unread.  His  genius  at  guage  as  that  which  best  conveys 
characterization  is  not  great;  his  the  message  of  poetry,  or  whether  he 
ability  at  telling  an  exciting  story  or  preaches  abandoning  the  luxurious, 
creating  dramatic  tension  is  almost  artificial  life  as  found  in  the  city,  to 
nil.  His  lines  never  sparkle  with  wit  return  to  the  calm  serenity  of  life 
or  satire  or  humor.  How  then,  can  in  the  country,  surrounded  by  heal- 
the  word  great  be  justly  applied  to  ing  communion  with  nature  and  the 
such  a  man?  Why  is  he  worth  our  basic  love  of  family  and  nation, 
consideration?  "Thinking  hearts"  at  first  might 

First,  because  he  possessed  person-  seem  a  contradiction,  but  it  need 

al  virtues  which  more  than  offset  not  be,  for  Wordsworth  is  one  of 

his  weaknesses.    Although  he  was  the  most  supreme  poet-philosophers, 

given  to  moods,  and  some  of  his  In  his  poetry  we  often  find  the  most 

friends  sometimes  found  it  difficult  simple  subjects:  a  flower  ('To  the 


Daisy,"  page  152),  a  lone  girl  sing-  own  words,  "Scorn  not  the  Sonnet" 

ing  as  she  sickles  grain  in  the  coun-  (page  163). 

tryside  ("The  Solitary  Reaper,"  Yet  whatever  his  announced  sub- 
page  154),  the  quiet  and  beauty  of  ject  may  be,  it  is  always  of  Words- 
a  city  at  daybreak  ("Composed  up-  worth  himself,  and  the  amazingly 
on  Westminster  Bridge,"  page  151 ) ,  deep  and  penetrating  patterns  of  his 
or  a  rainbow  ("My  Heart  Leaps  Up  mind  and  emotion  and  imagination 
When  I  Behold,"  page  148) :  that  we  learn  most.  Even  though  his 

language  may  be  deceptively  simple 

My  heart  leaps  up  when  I  behold  /as   in   «Lnies   Composed   a   Few 

SoAw"  it^en  m/l^began;  Miles  Above  Tintern  Abbey,"  page 

So  is  it  now  I  am  a  man:  121,  or    Ode  on  Intimations  ot  lm- 

So  be  it  when  I  shall  grow  old,  mortality"  page  160),  the  power  of 

Or  let  me  die!  the  idea  contained  within  his  in- 

The  Child  is  father  of  the  Man;  ward  yision  becomes  so  compelling 

And  I  could  wish  my  days  to  be  ,                   - .  .     L    .,           j       .  1? 

Bound  each  to  each  by  natural  piety.  and  so  immediate  to  the  reader,  that 

his  language  may  almost  be  said  to 

Whatever  else  is  done  or  undone,  become  spiritualized,  to  create  a 
time  should  be  taken  to  enjoy  the  power  and  a  reality  of  its  own,  apart 
lyrical  spontaneity  and  joy  of  at  least  and  above  the  realm  of  the  words 
one  of  his  most  famous  nature  as  ordinarily  used.  Such  an  ex- 
poems:  "I  Wandered  Lonely  as  a  hilarating  experience  for  the  reader 
Cloud"  (page  155),  or  "To  a  Sky-  does  not  come  about  by  chance, 
lark"  (page  156)  the  first  verse  of  since  Wordsworth  always  wished 
which  is  the  exhilaration  and  fresh-  to  impress  upon  his  audience  his  be- 
ness  of  poetry:  lief  that  "wisdom  comes  through  in- 

TT      ..„      ,         .:*  ■      .  .    .,      ,     ,  .  tuition,  emotion— a  kind  of  mystical 

Up  with  me!  up  with  me  into  the  clouds!  .              .L,                      y  ,  •  , 

For  thy  song  Lark,  is  strong;  communion     with     nature-which 
Up  with  me,  up  with  me  into  the  clouds!  produces  a  meditative  attitude  to- 
Singing,  singing,  ward  the  universe,  which  in  turn 
With  clouds  and  sky  about  thee  ringing,  produces  calm  and  peace." 

Lift  me,  guide  me  till  I  find  r  0.           „,     ,         f,      .                  ,, 

That  spot  which  seems  so  to  thy  mind.  Smce   Wordsworth    is   generally 

accepted  as  the  father  of  the  roman- 

Wordsworth  seems  at  his  hap-  tic  tradition  of  writing  subjectively, 

piest,  and  sometimes  at  his  best,  in  it  is  fitting  that  we  examine  some 

his  sonnets,  some  of  the  neatest  and  important  formative  influences  in 

loveliest    and    most    powerful    we  his  life.    First,  and  perhaps  greatest, 

have.  Choose  whichever  sonnet  you  is  the  Lake  District,  where  he  was 

will  ("London,  1802"  is  perhaps  the  born  in  1770  and  where  he  chose 

most  famous),  but  choose,  and  read  to  spend  all  his  creative  years.  Even 

it  in  the  spirit  of  song;  then  you  now  the  lakes  and  surrounding  hills 

cannot  be  too   unfair  to  Words-  located  on  the  west  coast  of  central 

worth's  genius.  It  is  at  least  a  possi-  England  are  known  for  their  isola- 

bility  that  these  sonnets  have  been  tion  and  for  their  enchanting  natural 

more  loved  by  more  people  than  beauty.     It  was  here  that  Words- 

almost  anything  he  wrote.  Or  in  his  worth  experienced  the  mystical  com- 


munion  with  nature  which  illumi-  benevolent;  that  man  is  by  nature 
nates  his  greatest  works  and  which  good;  that  the  simple  joys  of  nature 
made  his  poems  the  pattern  for  all  and  home  are  the  only  source  of  the 
nature-poets  of  the  century.  abundant  happiness  which   is  the 
How  much  his  early  home  life  natural  right  of  man;  and  that,  by 
and  years  at  Cambridge  shaped  his  exercising  his  intuition  and  imagina- 
heart  and  imagination  is  uncertain,  tion  amid  the  beauties  of  nature, 
but  his  walking  tours  of  Europe  and  man  can  achieve  highest  maturity 
Scotland  enhanced  for  him  the  value  and  wisdom;  and,  finally,  a  mystical 
of  nature,  and  his  stay  in  France  dur-  communion  with  nature  and  spirit- 
ing  the   French   Revolution    influ-  ual  powers  above.  Dorothy's  sacri- 
enced  him   for  life.     During   this  fice  of  her  own  considerable  talent 
year-long  visit  he  became  intensely  to  nurture  her  brother's  genius  was 
devoted   to   the  principles   of   the  complete  and  lifelong.   She  loved 
radical  Girondist  party,  which  be-  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  almost  as 
lieved  that  established  society  was  she  loved  her  brother,  and,  during 
selfish  and  corrupt,  and  that  the  the  years  preceding  the  appearance 
rights  of  free  men  to  justice  and  of  Lyrical  Ballads  in  1798,  the  three 
equality  could  be  attained  only  by  spent  most  of  their  days  together 
immediate  and  sweeping  armed  re-  in  long  walks  of  mutual  stimulation 
volt  against  aristocracy.    When,  in  and  appreciation.    The  keen  mind 
1793,   the  successful  revolutionists  of  Coleridge  also  quickened  Words- 
began    using   the   guillotine   exces-  worth's  own  awakening  powers  as 
sively,   and   when   Napoleon   later  nothing  else  could  have  done, 
established  himself  as  an  hereditary  For  some  years  before  the  publica- 
emperor,  Wordsworth's  despair  was  tion  of  Lyrical  Ballads  in  1798,  the 
morbid  in  its  depth  and  intensity,  young  Wordsworth  had  been  prac- 
For  a  time  he  lost  faith  in  almost  ticing  his  conviction  that  men  can 
everything;  never  again  did  he  be-  best  be  saved  and  guided  through 
lieve  in  improving  the  lot  of  man-  the  creative  imagination.    This  slim 
kind  either  by  legislation  or  by  mili-  volume  of  verse  contained  his  "Lines 
tary  revolution.  Composed  a  Few  Miles  Above  Tin- 
In    1802    Wordsworth    married  tern  Abbey"  and  Coleridge's  "Rime 
Mary  Hutchinson,  a  friend  of  his  of    the    Ancient    Mariner,"    each 
sister  Dorothy,  who  within  the  next  among  the  best  works  ever  produced 
eight  years  bore  him  five  children,  by  their  authors.     The  book  was 
They  were  happily  married,   with  very  coldly  received  by  conservative- 
Dorothy  living   in   their   home  as  minded  England.  It  was  not  until 
their  mutual  intimate  and  friend.  It  two  years  later  when  the  thirty-year- 
was    his    devoted    sister,    Dorothy,  old  Wordsworth  declared  his  poetic 
who  by  walking  with  him  amid  the  principles  in  the  preface  to  the  1800 
beauties  of  a  nature  he  had  once  edition,  that  his  contemporaries  saw 
loved,  restored  him  to  balance,  and  how   completely   he   had   revolted 
helped  build  within  him  his  life-  against    the    current    literature    of 
philosophy.    This    philosophy    was  artificiality  and  restraint.  Although 
that  the  laws  of  the  universe  are  he    was    almost    universally    con- 



demned,  he  believed  in  his  prin- 
ciples, and,  finally,  they  triumphed. 
It  was  not  until  the  final  decade  of 
his  life  that  his  countrymen  came 
to  realize  that  the  basic  declarations 
of  his  Preface  were  aimed  at  attain- 
ing in  the  realm  of  poetry  the  identi- 
cal democratic  goals  which  England 
had  set  up  for  herself  in  politics  and 
economics  and  society. 

This  Preface  has  rightfully  been 
accepted  as  one  of  the  great  mile- 
stones in  the  history  of  English  lit- 
erature. It  could  profitably  be 
quoted  and  discussed  at  will,  but 
at  least  four  passages  bear  com- 

(a)  The  ideal  material  for  poetic  treat- 
ment is  the  wholesome  life  of  common 
men  (page  318);  (b)  the  best  poetry 
uses  the  language  of  common  men  rather 
than  artificial  poetic  diction  (pp.  320-321, 
line  27  ff.);  (c)  the  poet  (page  322,  line 
35),  and  poetry  (page  326,  line  30)  are 
defined;  (d)  and  in  the  final  paragraph 
Wordsworth  advises  the  average  reader  to 
consult  his  own  feelings,  not  fashionable 
critics,  when  he  is  judging  poetry   (page 


The  "Lucy  Poems"  (pp.  123-124) 
were  contained  in  the  second  edi- 
tion of  the  Ballads. 


She  dwelt  among  the  untrodden  ways 

Beside  the  springs  of  Dove, 
A  Maid  whom  there  were  none  to  praise 

And  very  few  to  love: 

A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye! 
Fair  as  a  star,  when  only  one 

Is  shining  in  the  sky. 

She  lived  unknown,  and  few  could  know 

When  Lucy  ceased  to  be; 
But  she  is  in  her  grave,  and,  oh, 

The    difference    to    mel 

(text,  page  124) 

Here  we  see  ideally  exemplified 

Wordsworth's  poetic  theory  con- 
tained in  the  Preface.  In  these 
poems  we  find  a  purity  of  poetry 
and  a  surge  of  emotional  power 
which  recalls  the  spontaneous  fresh- 
ness and  originality  of  William 
Blake,  yet  the  language,  the  subject, 
and  the  emotions  are  those  of  com- 
mon living,  but  warmed  and  in- 
tensified by  the  cloak  of  the  imag- 
ination thrown  over  them  by  the 
poet.  The  simplicity  and  intensity 
of  their  emotion  have  made  them 
universally  known  and  loved. 

"Lines  Composed  A  Few  Miles 
Above  Tintern  Abbey"  is  one  of 
Wordsworth's  greatest  poems.  Here- 
in we  find  that  rare  fusion  of  word, 
idea,  and  emotion  which,  through 
the  undefinable  magic  of  the  poet's 
touch,  become  a  oneness  of  exalted 
power  and  revelation.  If  possible 
the  entire  poem  should  be  read 
aloud;  particularly  rewarding  are  the 
lines  30-48,  83-105,  and  134-146. 
Here  he  confesses  his  need  of  na- 
ture, and  the  magic  which  he  feels 
in  her  presence.  He  gives  in  detail 
several  episodes  from  his  own  past, 
then  points  out  that  "Nature  never 
did  betray  the  heart  that  loved  her/' 
This  poem  is  central,  both  in 
Wordsworth's  philosophy  and  in 
his  heart. 

Suggestions  for  Discussion 

1.  Wordsworth  has  often  been  defined 
as  the  poet  of  simplicity  and  nature. 
Would  one  be  justified  in  defining  him 
as  a  poet  of  mankind  and  democracy? 

2.  What  was  Wordsworth's  attitude  to- 
ward the  French  Revolution? 

3.  Why  was  Wordsworth's  new  theory 
of  poetry  received  so  coldly  by  his  fellow- 
Englishmen?  How,  then,  can  one  ac- 
count for  his  later  immense  popularity? 

4.  Comment  on  Wordsworth's  theory 
and   practice   of   poetic   words   and   style. 

Social  Science— The  Progress  of  Man 

Part  2— From  Darkness  Into  Dawn 

Lesson  13— Groping  Toward  Liberty  of  Conscience 

Elder  Archibald  F.  Bennett 

(Text:  The  Progress  of  Man,  by  Elder  Joseph  Fielding  Smith, 

chapter  23.) 

For  Tuesday,  April  22,  1952 

Objective:  To  relate  how  the  new  inhabitants  of  America,  escaping  from  Old 
World  tyranny,  gradually  overcame  religious  intolerance  among  themselves,  so  that 
liberty  of  conscience  could  take  firm  root  in  the  new  soil. 

Out  of  Captivity 

/^VER  two  thousand  years  before 
the  gentiles  came  to  America 
the  Lord  proclaimed,  by  a  firm  de- 
cree that  this  land  should  be  unto 
them  a  land  of  liberty.  The  promise 
was  made  that,  if  they  would  be 
humble,  the  Lord  would  not  only 
fortify  this  land  against  all  other 
nations,  but  he  would  help  the 
gentiles  fight  their  battles. 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  I,  Nephi,  be- 
held that  the  Gentiles  who  had  gone 
forth  out  of  captivity  did  humble  them- 
selves before  the  Lord;  and  the  power 
of  the  Lord  was  with  them. 

And  I  beheld  that  their  mother  Gen- 
tiles were  gathered  together  upon  the 
waters,  and  upon  the  land  also,  to  battle 
against  them. 

And  I  beheld  that  the  power  of  God 
was  with  them,  and  also  the  wrath  of 
God  was  upon  all  those  that  were  gath- 
ered together  against  them  to  battle. 

And  I,  Nephi,  beheld  that  the  Gentiles 
that  had  gone  out  of  captivity  were  de- 
livered by  the  power  of  God  out  of  the 
hands  of  all  other  nations  (Book  of 
Mormon,  I  Nephi  13:16-19). 

How  this  prophecy  has  been  ful- 
filled is  familiar  to  all.  The  land 
has  been  fortified  against  aggression 
of  all  European  powers  since  the 
people  in  this  land  of  all  races 
have  won  their  independence  from 

Page  62 

European  powers.  Moreover,  the 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  gentiles 
to  set  up  kings  has  proved  to  be 
very  disastrous.  There  are  no  kings 
upon  the  land  that  have  been  raised 
up  unto  the  gentiles.  Even  in  Can- 
ada, which  is  considered  as  a  Brit- 
ish possession,  the  people  make 
their  own  laws  and  govern  them- 
selves and  there  is  no  king  among 
them.  The  American  continents 
are  filled  with  republics,  for  Ameri- 
ca has  been  the  cradle  of  liberty 
for  the  whole  world. 

The  first  permanent  colonies  of 
Anglo-Saxons  were  planted  in  1607 
and  1620,  the  first  in  Virginia  and 
the  second  in  Massachusetts.  Earlier 
attempts  to  colonize  had  failed.  The 
reason  for  the  failure  was  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  those  who  came 
to  colonize  were  not  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  pioneering  and  were 
utterly  unfit  for  such  an  undertak- 
ing. They  were  mostly  adventure- 
some souls  of  idle  habits  who  knew 
nothing  of  battling  with  the  ele- 
ments in  a  new  world.  The  later 
settlements  were  based  on  the  de- 
sire for  religious  freedom.  Literal- 
ly, as  Nephi  states,  they  came  "out 
of  captivity"  to  possess  the  land. 

Those    sturdy    Pilgrims    of    the 


Puritan  faith  came  to  stay.  While 
they  were  forced  to  endure  severe 
trials  through  which  many  of  the 
original  company  laid  down  their 
lives,  yet  they  were  determined  to 
remain,  and  in  this  the  Lord  was 
with  them.  In  Great  Britain,  the 
English  monarch  endeavored  to 
force  his  religious  beliefs  upon  all 
the  people.  Due  to  this  continued 
persecution  other  companies  came 
at  frequent  intervals  to  strengthen 
the  first  little  band.  Still  others 
came  seeking  refuge  for  varying 
reasons,  so  that  America,  by  1630, 
contained  several  thriving  villages. 

Religious  Intolerance  in  America 

Notwithstanding  these  early  set- 
tlers came  to  America  because  they 
were  denied  religious  freedom  in 
the  mother  country,  they  them- 
selves practiced  intolerance  when 
they  arrived  on  American  shores. 
Political  and  religious  freedom  was 
of  slow  but  natural  growth.  It  did 
not  burst  into  full  bloom  with  the 
Reformation,  neither  did  it  obtain 
soil  suited  to  its  growth  in  the  na- 
tions of  Europe.  The  first  settlers 
of  Massachusetts  were  Puritans  of 
the  Separatist  faction.  They  claimed 
the  right  to  worship  as  they  chose, 
but  when  others  came  to  Massa- 
chusetts with  views  conflicting  with 
their  faith,  their  differences  of  be- 
lief were  not  tolerated. 

The  Reformation  did  not  insure 
the  right  of  individual  freedom  to 
worship.  Today  in  many  lands 
every  man  is  conceded  the  right  to 
worship  as  he  pleases  as  long  as  he 
does  not  infringe  upon  the  rights 
of  others.  This  was  not  the  case 
in  the  seventeenth  century  even 
with  the  colonies  in  America.  Laws 
were  passed  compelling  a  man  to 


attend  church  and  to  follow  the 
forms  prescribed.  Fines  were  im- 
posed upon  those  who  violated  this 
law.  Roger  Williams,  who  was  a 
Puritan,  but  of  liberal  views,  was 
forced  to  flee  from  Massachusetts 
to  prevent  being  deported  as  an 
undesirable  citizen.  The  Puritans 
considered  Massachusetts  exclusive- 
ly their  own  territory.  They  had 
no  objection  to  those  of  other  faiths 
settling  elsewhere,  but  would  not 
have  opposition  among  themselves. 
For  this  reason  Ann  Hutchinson, 
as  well  as  Roger  Williams,  was  ban- 
ished from  the  community;  and 
thus  in  various  parts  of  the  land 
other  settlements  were  formed. 

Besides  the  Puritans,  others  who 
came  "out  of  captivity"  were  the 
Quakers  and  some  Catholics.  The 
Quakers  were  not  tolerated  in 
Massachusetts.  Some  of  them  were 
whipped,  some  had  their  ears  cut 
off,  some  were  branded  with  hot 
irons,  and  some  were  put  to  death. 
William  Penn,  a  Quaker,  settled  in 
Pennsylvania  where  he,  like  Roger 
Williams,  made  friends  with  the 
Indians  and  dealt  with  them  fairly. 
Catholics  settled  in  Maryland, 
where  they  could  worship  free  from 

The  early  settlers  in  the  Carolinas 
were  Englishmen  who  came  in 
1670.  In  1685,  French  Huguenots 
came  from  France.  These  were 
followed  by  Germans  and  Scotch- 
Irish.  In  this  way,  little  by  little, 
the  original  thirteen  states  which 
formed  the  American  Union  came 
into  existence.  Before  the  Revolu- 
tionary War  they  worked  along  in- 
dependent lines.  Religious  differ- 
ences stood  in  the  way  of  their 
unity  as  a  people.  Intolerance  on 
the  part  of  one  faction  towards  an- 



other  had  to  be  gradually  broken 

The  Beginning  oi  Liberty 
oi  Conscience 

Roger  Williams  believed  that  the 
American  continent  belonged  to 
the  Indians  and  that  foreign  kings 
had  no  legal  or  moral  right  to  grant 
charters  to  take  possession  of  the 
land.  He  further  taught  that  men 
should  be  at  liberty  to  worship  as 
they  chose  and  a  man's  faith  should 
be  guarded  against  compulsion  or 
interference  on  the  part  of  others. 
Practicing  what  he  taught,  he  pur- 
chased the  land  from  the  Indians 
and  dealt  justly  with  them  and,  be- 
cause of  it,  was  able,  with  his  fol- 
lowers, to  establish  a  colony  at 
Providence  in  Rhode  Island.  Others 
joined  with  him  and  his  settlement 
took  firm  root.  From  the  begin- 
ning entire  freedom  of  conscience 
was  granted  to  all.  The  principle 
of  freedom  of  worship  and  freedom 
of  thought  was  first  laid  down  by 
Roger  Williams,  and  from  this  small 
beginning  it  spread.  Maryland, 
under  Lord  Baltimore,  had  granted 
like  freedom  after  much  trouble 
and  the  overthrow  of  religious 

Growth  oi  the  American  Colonies 
From  the  founding  of  James- 
town (in  Virginia)  and  the  Pilgrim 
Colony  at  Plymouth  in  Massa- 
chusetts until  the  close  of  the 
French  and  Indian  War,  the  growth 
of  the  American  settlements  was 
slow.  Those  who  came  to  Ameri- 
ca determined  to  make  it  their 
home.  These  people  of  Europe 
were  of  the  sturdy  middle  class. 
Nearly  all  of  the  people  in  the  colo- 
nies  spoke   English.     The  greater 

part  of  them  were  Protestants,  with 
a  few  Catholics  and  some  Hugue- 
nots from  France.  By  the  year 
1643,  there  were  about  26,000  peo- 
ple in  New  England,  about  one- 
fifth  of  these  having  been  born  on 
American  soil. 

The  French  had  taken  possession 
of  the  country  to  the  north,  known 
as  Canada.  The  Dutch  had  come 
to  New  York,  which  they  called 
New  Netherland,  and  the  Spanish 
to  Florida  and  Mexico.  Although 
all  of  these  people  were  professed 
Christians,  worshiping  the  same 
God,  yet  they  could  not  live  in 
peace.  War  was  brought  on  among 
the  nations  of  Europe  because  of 
trade  rivalry  and  territorial  claims 
in  the  colonization  of  America. 
The  British  conquered  the  Dutch 
and  took  from  them  the  territory 
which  they  had  colonized,  and  re- 
named it  New  York.  The  war  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  France  re- 
sulted in  the  defeat  of  the  French, 
and  England  took  possession  of  all 
country  to  the  north.  When  the 
American  revolution  broke  out 
there  were  thirteen  English  colonies 
which  joined  together,  governing  a 
territory  from  Maine  on  the  north 
to  Georgia  on  the  south,  and  the 
population  was  nearly  all  east  of  the 
Alleghanies.  In  1763,  the  entire 
population  of  these  colonies  was 
between  1,600,000  and  1,800,000 
souls.  No  census  had  been  taken 
so  that  the  exact  figure  cannot  be 
given.  Philadelphia,  New  York, 
Boston,  and  Charleston  were  the 
chief  cities,  and  the  largest  of  these, 
Philadelphia,  had  a  population  of 
about  20,000  souls.  The  population 
of  the  whole  country  was  divided 
about  equally  north  and  south  of 
the  Mason  Dixon  line,  a  dividing 



line  which  was  to  play  an  import- 
ant part  in  the  later  history  of  the 

Of  this  population  there  were 
about  400,000  negro  slaves,  most  of 
them  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dix- 
on line.  Unfortunately  negro  slav- 
ery was  introduced  into  America 
shortly  after  the  first  settlements 
were  established.  Because  of  this 
condition  it  may  be  seen  that  the 
white  population  of  the  North  was 
greater  than  the  white  population 
of  the  South. 

Thoughts  for  Discussion 

1.  What  factors  made  for  the  perma- 
nancy  of  Anglo-Saxon  settlements  in  the 
new  land  which  were  lacking  among  the 
Spaniards  and  French? 

2.  In  what  manner  has  the  Lord,  ac- 
cording to  promise,  fortified  America 
against  all  other  nations? 

3.  Show  that  Canada,  although  nomi- 
nally under  the  British  crown,  has  com- 
plete self-government. 

4.  Can  you  sustain  the  statement  that 
"America  has  been  the  cradle  of  liberty 
for  the  whole  world?" 

5.  Assign  a  member  to  cite  ex- 
amples of  the  intolerance  practiced  by 
the  Puritans  and  others  against  Quakers, 
Catholics,  and  those  who  differed  in  be- 
lief from  them. 

6.  Show  that  "political  and  religious 
freedom  was  of  slow  but  natural  growth." 

7.  What  was  the  contribution  of  Roger 
Williams,  Ann  Hutchinson,  William 
Penn,  and  Lord  Baltimore  toward  re- 
ligious freedom  and  tolerance? 

8.  Indicate  the  extent  to  which  the 
American  colonies  had  grown  by  the 
time  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  Where 
were  the  chief  settlements? 


msic — Fundamentals  of  Musicianship 

Appreciation,  Conducting,  Singing,  and  Accompanying 

Lessons  for  Union  Meetings  for  1951-52 

Lesson  15— Review  of  the  6/8  Baton  Pattern;  Style  and  Interpretation 
of  Music;  Music  Material  and  Books  for  Study;  Music  as  a  Missionary 

Textbook:  Fundamentals  of  Conducting,  by  }.  Spencer  Cornwall. 
Florence  Jepperson  Madsen 

Objective:  To  refine  the  technique  of  conducting  and  expression  of  music;  to  be- 
come more  informed  about  music  and  its  far-reaching  spiritual  powers. 

Review  of  6/8  Rhythm 

In  the  further  study  and  the  review  of 
6/8  rhythm  keep  in  mind  the  importance 
of  smooth  and  sustained  baton  motions 
when  the  tempo  is  slow  so  that  the  flow 
of  rhythm  shall  not  be  disturbed. 

Practice  the  following  hymns: 

(a)  "Sweet  Hour  of  Prayer" 

(b)  "It    Came    Upon    the    Midnight 


In  conducting  6/8  rhythm  in  fast 
tempo,  and  where  the   2/4  pattern  is  to 

be  used,  remember  that  the  up-beat  (count 
two)  should  move  upward  without  being 
hurried  or  stressed.  Conduct  the  pattern 
with  ease  and  buoyancy. 

(a)  Select    songs    for    practice. 

(b)  Songs  in  6/8  rhythm  that  are  in 
slow  tempo,  and  in  which  an  important 
word  or  syllable  occurs  on  count  four, 
should  be  conducted  with  a  broader  and 
a  more  vigorous  motion  on  that  beat. 


(1)   "Silent  Night" 



(2)   "A  Poor  Wayfaring  Man  of  Grief" 

Style  and  Interpretation  of  Music 

Time  wrecks  the  proudest  piles  we  raise, 
"The  towers,  the  domes,  the  temples  fall; 
The  fortress  crumbles  and  decays; 
One  breath  of  song  outlives  them  all. 
— Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 

Adapt  the  phrasing  to  the  text  of  a 
song.  Breath  should  be  taken  at  points 
where  an  idea  or  thought  has  been  com- 
pleted. The  general  rule  is  to  phrase  at  all 
punctuation  marks.  The  exception  to 
this  rule  is  when  the  punctuation  marks 
appear  after  single  words  or  very  short 
word  groups  as: 

(a)  "Come,  Come,  Ye  Saints" 

(b)  "I  Need  Thee,  O  I  Need  Thee" 

(c)  "Nearer,   Dear  Saviour,   to  Thee" 

Instead  of  taking  a  breath  at  such  places, 
merely  suspend  the  breath,  which  silences 
the  tone  for  an  instant  and  produces  the 
same  effect  as  if  a  breath  had  been  taken. 
Such  careful  phrasing  gives  proper  mean- 
ing to  the  words  of  a  song. 

"The  poem  is  really  the  soul  of  any 
song,  and  its  hearers  are  entitled  to  follow 
it.  The  most  beautiful  vocal  projection 
loses  its  effect  if  the  words  are  unintelli- 
gible."— Victoria  Anderson  and  Viola 
Morris  (Etude). 

The  words  of  a  song  should  be  sung  in 
a  beautiful  tone  quality  and  in  a  manner 
that  will  give  full  meaning  to  the  text: 

(a)  First  consider  the  subject  of  the 

(b)  Read  the  words  over  several  times 
in  order  to  understand  the  message  with- 
out the  music. 

(c)  Express  the  word  message  beau- 
tifully, and  with  an  understanding  and 
vitality  which  make  the  text  sound  as  if 
it  were  one's  own  expression. 

Read  the  words  as  if  they  were  being 
given  before  an  audience.  Use  the  proper 
inflections  and  sufficient  volume  to  be 
easily  heard.  In  so  doing  the  possibilities 
of  the  text  will  be  revealed — key  words 
and   syllables  will  be  stressed  and   unim- 

portant ones  subdued.    Light  and  shades 
in   volume  will  then   naturally  follow. 

All  of  these  instructions  and  suggestions 
are  of  equal  importance  to  the  accompan- 
ist and  should,  therefore,  be  used  in  her 

(d)  Style  in  singing  and  playing  is 
largely  determined  and  identified  by  a 
consistent  use  of  the  following  types  of 

Legato — smooth,  connected,  graceful 
Staccato — detached,  short 
Semi-staccato — less  detached 
Marcato — accented,  marked 
Demi-marcato — less   marked 

1.  For  the  markings  and  abbreviations 
of  these  terms  refer  to  chapter  fourteen 
or  seventeen  in  the  textbook;  to  a  music 
dictionary  under  "Signs";  or  to  the  indi- 
vidual words  in  Webster's  Unabridged 
Dictionary,  under,  "Arbitrary  Signs  and 
Symbols,"  (page  3007,  in  the  second  edi- 

2.  The  artistic  use  of  these  types  of  ex- 
pression gives  the  ever-needed  contrast  and 
beauty  to  musical  performance,  both  vo- 
cal and  instrumental. 

Music  as  a  Missionary 

Music  awakens  interest,  which  is  one 
of  the  first  prerequisites  to  missionary 

Music,  with  words,  not  only  creates 
interest  but  invites  attentive  listening. 

Music  set  to  inspirational  words  stimu- 
lates the  consciousness  towards  thoughtful 
consideration  of  the  text,  the  first  requi- 
site to  fruitful  missionary  activity. 

Inspiring  music,  with  sacred  words, 
challenges  the  mind  with  religious  phi- 

Music  has  the  power  to  warm  the  cold, 
indifferent  heart. 

The  singing  of  our  own  hymns,  bearing 
the  gospel  message,  is  often  the  key  that 
opens  a  spiritual  conversation,  in  the  home 
or  elsewhere,  and  sometimes  leads  to  con- 

Dame  Clara  Butt,  England's  great  con- 
tralto, said: 



"Those    singers    are    fortunate    whose      cradle   and,   whose   first  master  was   that 
musical  knowledge  commenced  with  the      greatest  of  all  teachers,  the  mother." 

Music  Material  and  Suggested  Books  (or  Study 

Sacred  Three-part  Songs    (S.S.A.) 

"Be  Thou  Exalted,  O  God"  (easy) 

"Galilean  Easter  Carol" 

"O  Lord  Most  Merciful  (easy) 

"Sing  Forth  His  High  Eternal  Name" 

"O  Jesus,  Thou  Art  Standing" 

Sacred  Two-part  Songs 

"Come  We  That  Love  the  Lord" 
"Thy  House  Forever" 
"Lift  Up  Your  Heads" 

Books  foi  Study 

"Elementary  Harmony" 
"Music  for  the  Multitude" 
"Universal  Song,"  Vols.  1,  2,  and  3 
"Music  for  Everybody" 


Cuthbert  Harris 






Arthur  P.  Schmidt 

Bel  win 


Arthur  P.  Schmidt 

Carl   Fischer 


G.  Schirmer 


G.  Schirmer 

Leisure  League  of  America, 
New  York 

A  Strange  Christmas  Eve 

(Continued  horn  page  37) 

She  lay  quietly  for  what  seemed  a  quiet.    Then  she  wished  the  noises 

long    time,    and    then    she    heard  would  continue  because  the  silence 

movements  in  the  living  room.  She  seemed  even  more  threatening. 

imagined  the  footsteps  were  going  She  must  have  dozed>  because  Bill 

to  the  corner  where  the  gun  had  junior    came    bounding    into    her 

been  placed.     Slowly  Gwen  arose,  room  in  bathrobe  and  sli     ers  call. 

and  moving  as  quietly  as  possible,  «AJf  ..,     ,        .  ,  •  ,.       . 

i      j  it-     v    i      c        i_  •         j        mg,    Mommy,  it  s  almost  light  out- 
placed the  back  ot  a  chair  under       .?  ".       .  &   . 

side;  may  we  go  in  now  and  see 

what  Santa  left  for  us?" 

All  the  worry  of  the  night  re- 
turned. Why,  she  had  not  even 
removed  the  cookies  and  milk  as 
she  usually  did,  but  it  was  too  late 
now.  They  would  have  to  face 
their  disappointment.  She  drew 
her  own  robe  and  slippers  on,  care- 
fully removed  the  dresser  and  chair 
from  the  door,  while  Susan  hunted 
hours  to  Gwen,  and  then  all  became     for  her  slippers  and  Bill  returned 

the  knob  of  the  door,  since  there 
was  no  key  to  turn.  Then  she 
pushed  the  dresser  across  the  car- 
peted room  until  that  too  formed  a 
barricade.  She  lifted  Susan  and 
placed  her  next  the  wall  in  her  own 
bed  and  then  climbed  in  herself, 
still  trembling  and  silently  praying. 

HTHE  soft  noises  continued  in  the 
next    room    for    what    seemed 



for   his    flashlight,   and    then    they 
filed  into  the  firelighted  room. 

The  squaw  was  sitting  where  they 
had  left  her  last  night,  but  the  sack 
was  in  the  corner  by  the  gun,  and 
the  blanket  was  folded  loosely  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  the  fireplace. 
To  Gwen's  amazement,  the  cookie 
plate  was  empty,  as  was  the  glass, 
and  the  children  were  shouting  that 
Santa  had  been  there  as  they  had 
known  he  would.  They  brought 
their  stockings  to  show  her,  and 
there  were  brightly  colored  beads 
and  a  pair  of  beaded  moccasins  in 
Susan's  and  a  beaded  belt  and  moc- 
casins in  Bill's.  True,  the  Indian 
slippers  were  too  large  for  their  feet, 
but  that  seemed  to  make  little  dif- 
ference because  the  belt  was  right, 
and  the  beads  were  perfect. 

The  eyes  of  the  two  women  who 
had  been  a  lifetime  apart  last  night 
met  in  perfect  understanding,  and 
there  were  tears  in  Gwen's  as  she 
made  her  gratitude  known  in  si- 

When  the  three  men  returned 
at  noon,  with  additional  gifts  Santa 
had  entrusted  to  them  because  he 
could  not  get  his  largest  pack 
through  the  slide,  the  cabin  seemed 

bursting  with  gratitude  and  Christ- 
mas cheer.  Beaver  Charley  and  his 
wife  held  an  animated  conference 
in  their  own  language  and  then  he 
explained  to  Gwen  alone  that  they 
had  sold  all  the  children's  moccasins 
in  town  and  had  kept  only  these 
two  pairs  for  their  own  sons  who 
were  much  older  than  these  chil- 
dren. Gwen  was  to  keep  them, 
however,  until  smaller  ones  were 
made  and  then  they  could  be  ex- 

Beaver  Charley  added,  "My  wom- 
an says  thank  you  for  the  cookies 
and  milk  you  left  for  her  last  night." 

When  Gwen  explained  that  the 
Indians  had  two  boys  at  home  with 
their  grandmother,  Bill  Junior  and 
Susan  selected  two  of  their  best 
books— one  of  brightly  colored  ani- 
mals and  one  of  birds,  to  send  as 
their  gifts.  Gwen  insisted  that  they 
accept  a  box  with  some  of  her  prized 
chokecherry  jelly,  dried  corn,  and 
a  dozen  fresh  eggs. 

And  so  there  was  established  a 
beautiful  friendship  between  these 
two  families  of  different  races,  but 
with  hearts  filled  with  the  same 
Christmas  spirit. 

Replica  of  Yesteryear 


his  throat  with  great  difficulty  be- 
fore he,  in  a  choky  sort  of  way, 

Light  the  candles  on  the  tree. 
One  for  Mom,  one  for  Pop, 
One  for  Jim  and  one  for  me. 

This  was  an  old  rhyme  they  had 
sung  since  the  boys  were  old  enough 
to   understand   stories.     Alice  had 

from  page  39 ) 

told  them  of  her  girlhood  Christ 
mases  when  wax  candles  graced  the 
Christmas  tree  as  there  was  no  elec- 
tricity in  her  rural  home.  The 
boys  had  begged  for  wax  candles. 
She,  eager  to  satisfy  their  eager  de- 
mands, had  brought  four  bright 
candles.  Placing  the  four  simple 
candles   upon   the  brightly  globed 



tree,  along  with  the  singing  of  the 
little  jingle,  had  become  the  big 
event  of  the  decorating  scheme. 
Each  Christmas  the  ritual  had  been 
carried  out. 

Try  as  she  might,  Alice  could  not 
push  last  year  from  her  mind.  "One 
for  Mom,  one  for  Pop,  one  for  Jim, 
and  one  for  me."  Ray  had  barely 
finished  the  last  of  the  rhyme  when 
the  knocker  had  chimed  in  the 
hallway  and  Alex  had  received  the 
never-to-be-forgotten  telegram. 

Now,  three  days  before  Christ- 
mas, Alex  lugged  the  tree  into  the 
house  with  a  cheerful,  "How's  that, 
Mother?    A  beauty,  huh?" 

"It's  beautiful,  Alex,"  Alice  re- 
sponded with  forced  enjoyment, 
thinking  all  the  while,  dear  Alex, 
what  an  actor  you  are. 

Christmas  Eve  came  all  too  soon. 
Together,  with  simulated  gaiety, 
they  took  the  trimmings  from  the 
attic  and  dressed  the  tree  in  all  its 
splendor.  In  spite  of  the  puns  and 
the  jokes,  each  sensed  the  ache  in 
the  other. 

The  lights  were  tested  and  placed 
just  so,  the  tinsel  was  draped  with 
meticulous  care,  gay  Santas  were 
suspended  from  the  branches  and 
teetered  in  happy  abandon,  and 
the  golden  angel,  planted  on  the 
uppermost  twig,  reigned  in  all  her 
glory.  But  one  small  blue  box  re- 
mained unopened  on  the  mantel. 
Alice  and  Alex  purposely  avoided 
it.  Each  was  waiting  for  the  other 
to  suggest  that  it  be  opened. 

Alex  cleared  his  throat,  and  with 
a  gesture  of  nonchalance,  said, 
"Here's  something  we  forgot  to 

Casually  he  handed  the  box  to 


Sacred  Music 


L.D.S.  Singing 



God  Is  Love — Shelley -  .12 

Heavens  Are  Telling 

"Creation"  —  Haydn .15 

How  Beautiful  Upon  the 

Mountains  —  Harker  - .16 

How  Lovely  Are  Thy 

Dwellings  —  Smart .16 

If  Ye  Love  Me,  Keep  My 

Commandments  —  Madsen.. .20 

Jesus,  Our  Lord,  We 

Adore  Thee  —  James .18 

King  of  Glory— Parks .20 

My  Soul  Is  Athirst  For  God- 
Stickles  - .15 

O  Lord  Most  Merciful — Concone  .12 
Voice  in  the  Wilderness— Scott...  .22 

Music  Sent  On  Approval 

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"Education  is  capital  to  the  poor 
man  and  interest  to  the  rich  man" 

— Horace  Mann 

Further  your  business  education  by 
enrolling  in  L.D.S.  Business  College's 


starting  January  2,  1952 

Individual  training  on  these  NEW  office 

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■^  ■«■-*■■«■■*■-»■  -*- 

Not  to  be  outdone,  she  slowly 
untied  the  string,  gently  lifted  the 
crumpled  tissue,  and  slowly  removed 
the  four  candles  from  the  box.  She 
handed  two  of  them  to  Alex  and 
kept  two  for  herself. 

ALEX  spent  a  long,  long  time 
attaching  them  to  the  boughs, 
while  Alice  sought  special  places 
for  her  candles.  After  considerable 
fixing  and  unfixing,  the  candles 
stood  tall  and  graceful,  awaiting 
the  match  that  would  change  them 
into  glowing  beacons. 

Alex  and  Alice,  like  two  fright- 
ened children,  looked  at  each  other. 
The  rhyme  could  not  come  from 
their  dry  throats. 

The  knocker  on  the  door  broke 
the  silence,  and  the  chimes  began 
their  usual  peel.  Moving  as  an 
actor    in    a    well-rehearsed    scene, 

Alex  opened  the  door  and  auto- 
matically reached  out  his  hand  for 
the  telegram. 

Alice,  as  if  her  knees  could  not 
bear  the  weight  of  her  body,  sank 
into  the  big  chair.  As  Alex  handed 
her  the  unopened  message  she 
closed  her  eyes  for  a  moment  and 
then  mechanically  tore  the  flap  and 
began  to  read. 

Having  read,  she  laid  her  head 
on  Alex's  shoulder  and  gave  way 
to  the  pent-up  tears.  Alex  placed 
his  arm  firmly  around  her  waist 
and  studied  the  message.  Having 
drunk  of  its  contents,  he  placed  it 
on  the  mantel,  took  his  handker- 
chief from  his  pocket,  and  wiped 
Alice's  tear-stained  face.  He  took 
hold  of  Alice's  hand  and  said, 
"Come,  Mother,  we  haven't  yet 
sung  the  rhyme." 

Alice  lifted  her  face,  blinked 
back  the  tears  and,  greatly  off-key, 
joined  with  Alex  in  the  rhyme. 

The  leaping  flames  from  the  fire- 
place splashed  the  mantel  and  threw 
golden  shadows  over  the  words  of 
the  telegram: 

Light  the  candles  on  the  tree,  one  for 
Mom,  one  for  Pop,  one  for  Jim,  and  one 
for  me.     I've  found  Jim. 



Doiothy  R.  Salyer 

Prayer,  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  footsteps  to  the  path 
That  leads  to  higher  climes, 
Where  love  is  righteousness; 
Where  God  in  mercy  reigns 
And  sends  his  spirit  down 
To  quell  the  world's  disdain, 
To  fill  the  heart  with  peace  again 


Through  This  Door 

(Continued  from  page  43) 

"I  think  a  dozen  is  a  nice  even 
number,  don't  you,  Mary  Ruth?" 

I  stepped  back.  "Well  .  .  .  I  .  .  . 
that  is,  I  never  thought  of  it." 

He  said  to  the  babies,  "She  used 
to  be  very  truthful  when  she  was 
young  .  .  .  like  you." 

I  giggled.  "Well,  then,  I  do 
agree  with  you,  Doctor.  Twelve  is 
a  nice,  even  number."  I  backed 
hastily  away.  "No  .  .  .  Sir,  don't  you 
dare.  Not  here.  They  don't  allow 
kissing  in  the  nursery." 

"Very  well,"  he  said  and  put  his 
mask  back  on,  "but  only  because  I 
respect  head  nurses  as  much  as 
you.  Now  tell  me,  when  will  you 
be  through  here?" 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  "In  just 
fifteen  minutes  and  thirty  seconds." 

He  went  to  the  door.  "I'll  be 
waiting  down  on  the  lawn,  by  that 
third  lilac  from  the  left.  Mary  Ruth, 
I  do  love  you." 

He  was  gone,  and  the  nursery 
was  still,  except  for  the  Jefferson 
baby  who  was  getting  hungry.  But 
it  seemed  like  music  to  me  .  .  .  like 
the  notes  of  a  new  song,  as  though 
something  magical  and  most  un- 
professional was  filling  the  air  with 

I  thought  of  Mrs.  Marriott.  Oh, 
I  would  call  her  tonight.  And  what 
would  I  say  .  .  .  except  thank  you, 
my  darling,  and  thank  you  again 
and  again,  and  all  women  like  you, 
the  undefeated,  the  brave,  the  ten- 
der, forever  helping  others  to  push 
open  the  dark  and  bitter  doors  to 
the  shining  future. 


Water  Heating 
more  popular 
than  \\ .a  /v 


More  than 

100,000  people  enjoy  it 
in  this  area. 

A  Utah  Power  &  Light  Co.  Message 

Preserve  Your 

Relief  Society  Magazines 

For  Reference 

Have  your  Relief  Society 
Magazines  bound  into 
permanent  yearly  vol- 
umes. They  are  excellent 
for  reference.  Cost  is 
small.  Write  or  phone  to- 
day for  information. 

Deseret  News  Press 




Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Cjrom   I  Lear  and  C/c 

I  send  all  my  Reliei  Society  Magazines 
after  I  have  read  them  to  a  new  member 
of  our  Church  in  North  Carolina.  There 
is  no  Relief  Society  organization  in  her 
community  as  yet. 

— Mabel    Law    Atkinson, 

Dayton,  Idaho. 

I  express  my  appreciation  for  the  many 
articles,  lessons,  and  items  of  interest 
that  I  have  enjoyed  over  the  years  and 
hope  the  Magazine  will  always  continue 
to  be  the  life  blood  of  Relief  Society 
—Miriam  B.  Neal,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

I  would  like  to  tell  you  how  much  I 
enjoy  and  appreciate  the  Magazine.  My 
daughters,  thirteen  and  ten,  are  learning 
to  enjoy  it  almost  as  much  as  I  do,  and 
I  am  indeed  thankful  for  the  lovely  stories 
that  come  into  my  home  in  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine. 

— Mrs.  Rinda  Rowley  Willson, 

Elmo,  Utah 

Needless  to  say,  the  Magazine  is  an  in- 
spiration to  all  us  mothers,  and  I  for  one 
look  forward  to  receiving  each  issue.  There 
is  always  some  story  which  serves  as  re- 
minder of  my  blessings,  of  my  responsi- 
bility in  rearing  a  family,  and  of  my  obli- 
gation to  serve  God  in  his  Church. 

—Dora  D.  Flack,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

The  Relief  Society  poets  are  the  best  in 
the  world  (in  my  estimation) — Christie 
Lund  Coles,  Dorothy  J.  Roberts,  Grace 
Sayre,  and  Margery  S.  Stewart.  I  know 
good  poetry,  and  each  month  after  read- 
ing the  poems  in  the  Magazine  I  marvel 
at  the  expressions  used  by  these  writers. 
They  are  wonderful. 

— Clara  Laster,  Tulsa,  Oklahoma 

Alice  Morrey  Bailey,  well-known  and 
popular  contributor  to  The  Reliei  Society 
Magazine,  has  recently  been  honored  by 
having  her  story  "Nugget  of  Truth"  (First 
prize  story  in  the  Relief  Society  Short 
Story  Contest,  1947,  published  in  the 
Magazine  for  January  1948)  featured  as 
a  special  reading  for  "Fireside"  programs 
in  many  wards  of  the  Church. 

Page  72 


Words  cannot  express  how  I  feel  about 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine,  especially 
for  the  opportunity  which  is  given  to  new 
writers  to  express  themselves.  As  Relief 
Society  president  of  the  Tulsa,  Oklahoma 
Branch,  I  am  very  proud  of  all  the  lovely 
articles  published  by  one  of  our  members — 
Clara  Laster.  The  one  on  "The  Neglec- 
ted Art  of  Photo-Coloring"  in  the  Novem- 
ber issue  was  wonderful.  Such  articles  as 
hers  will  surely  be  welcomed  by  all  read- 
ers.— Margaret  Oliver,  Tulsa  Oklahoma. 

I  like  The  Reliei  Society  Magazine 
very  much.  I  have  been  confined  to  my 
bed  for  the  past  ten  years  with  arthritis, 
so  am  unable  to  take  an  active  part  in 
the  Church,  and  so  am  most  happy  to 
have  the  Magazine. 

— Rhoda  Bryant, 

Basalt,  Idaho 

Any  words  I  might  say  of  the  enjoy- 
ment and  inspiration  given  to  us  by  The 
Reliei  Society  Magazine  would  be  insuf- 
ficient to  express  our  gratitude  to  you 
who  make  the  Magazine.  To  us  so  far 
away  from  home  it  guides  and  leads  us 
in  all  we  do. 

— Catherine    F.    Golding 

Puerto  Rico 

For  nine  months  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  was  the  only  connection  I  had 
with  the  Church.  In  those  months  I 
found  out  the  full  enjoyment  you  can  re- 
ceive from  this  wonderful  Magazine. 
— Nellie  Rae  Beagle 

Miles  City,  Montana 

Thank  you  for  making  available  such 
a  fine  Magazine.  It  is  truly  a  family  Mag- 
azine, and  the  inspiration  and  help  we  all 
receive  from  it  cannot  be  measured1  in 
dollars  and  cents. 

— Evelyn  L.  Win  ward 

Dayton,  Idaho 

The  Reliei  Society  Magazine  is  one  of 
the  finest  publications  I  read.  The  poems 
and  stories  are  always  a  source  of  enjoy- 
ment and  inspiration. 

— Jo  Bishop  Ashby,  Holden,  Utah 

►  i  "OM-n  w* ;>-«■»■.  i ^b»<  i -mmm-i . «■»■■-«■••■•«■»     <^»-  «^»<m 

3  Current  "Best  Sellers"  (or  L  U.S.  Families 

"Our  Leaders" 



A  short  and  inspiring  picture  of  the  four  leaders 
of  our  Church  —  President  David  O.  McKay,  his 
Counselors,  President  Stephen  L  Richards  and 
President  J.  Reuben  Clark,  Jr.,  and  President 
Joseph  Fielding  Smith  of  the  Quorum  of  the 
Twelve.  The  story  of  their  lives  and  the  services 
they  rendered.  Words  of  inspiriation  and  guid- 
ance from  their  addresses  and  quotations. 

"The  Mormon' 


A  reprint  of  the  chapter  about  the  Mormons 
from  the  book  "Faith  and  My  Friends."  An  in- 
teresting opinion  by  a  noted  writer  concerning 
the  people  of  our  Church  of  interest  to  every 
Latter-day  Saint. 







-"-"'.   £>  ■        Y  5 
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"Children's  Friend  Story  Book" 

A  selection  of  the  best  stories,  poems  and 
other  features  from  the  "Children's  Friend' 
magazine  for  young  children. 

For  Younger  Children 

Deseret  Book  Co.      ! 

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PERMIT  No    690 

SacccM  rfneact , , , 

The  other  day  I  was  talk- 
ing to  my  Beneficial  Life 
Agent  and  he  told  me  that 
the  secret  of  success  is 
being  able  to  save  a  little 
out  of  each  paycheck.  He 
showed  to  me  a  plan  that 
would  help  me  save  the 

first  dollars  of  my  pay- 
check. I'm  happy  I  started 
the  plan  because  it  really 


"*"T3   Company 







Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 

Belle  S.  Spctfford  ......  President 

Marianne  C.   Sharp       ------  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.   Simonsen      -----  Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.   Pickering  .._■'.       Secretary-Treasurer 

Achsa  E.  Paxman  Leone  G.  Layton  Lillie  C.  Adams  Christine  H.  Robinson 

Mary  G.  Judd  Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Louise  W.  Madsen  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

Anna  B.  Hart  Evon  W.  Peterson  Aleine  M.  Young  Nellie  W.  Neal 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Josie  B.  Bay  Mildred  B.  Eyring 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Mary  J.  Wilson  Alta  J.  Vance  Helen  W.  Anderson 


Editor     -----------  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate   Editor           -             -             -            -            -            -             -,           -             -  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager        ---------  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  39  FEBRUARY  No.   2 


on  tents 


The  Place  of  Relief  Society  in  the  Indian  Program  Delbert  Leon  Stapley  76 

Teach  the  Lamanites  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  Spencer  W.  Kimball  83 

Loving  and  Working  With  Our  Lamanite  Sisters  Myrle  Fowler  84 


No  Tears,  Beloved  —  Second  Prize  Story  Blanche  Kendall  McKey     87 

The  House  With  the  Blue  Roof  Hannah  Smith     96 

"To  Thine  Own  Self"  Kay  Islaub  105 

Uncertain  Possession  —  Chapter  2  Beatrice  R.  Parsons   111 


Sixty  Years  Ago  100 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.   Cannon  101 

Editorial:  Not  After  the  Manner  of  the  World  Marianne  C.  Sharp  102 

Congratulations  to  President  Amy  Brown  Lyman  103 

Notes  From  the  Field:  Relief   Society   Activities    

General  Secretary-Treasurer,  Margaret  C.  Pickering  117 

From  Near  and  Far  144 


Good  Afternoon,  My  Lady  Mirla  Greenwood  Thayne     94 

I  Made  My  Own  Family  Heirlooms  M.  Garrett  Enos  104 

Her  Hobby  Brings  Happiness  —  Martha  J.  Holm  Makes  Keepsakes  115 

Thoughts  on  Patience  Florence  S.   Glines  116 

A  Little  World  or  a  Big  One Caroline   Eyring   Miner  140 


Theology:    Lehi,  Man  of  Visions Leland  H.  Monson  122 

Visiting  Teacher  Messages:     "He  That  Will  Not  Believe  My  Words" Leone  O.  Jacobs  126 

Work  Meeting — Sewing:  Linens  and  Household  Articles  Jean  Ridges  Jennings  127 

Literature:  William  Wordsworth   (Concluded)  Briant  S.  Jacobs  128 

Social  Science:  The  American  Revolution  Archibald  F.  Bennett  132 

Music:  Joy  and  Service  Through  Singing  and  Playing  Florence  J.  Madsen  136 


Seed  of  Laman — Frontispiece  Alice  Morrey  Bailey     75 

Afterglow  —  Illustrated  Poem  Anna  Prince  Redd     73 

Vast  Horizons  Calling  Harriette  Grace  Eaton  110 

Jonquil  in  February  Ouida  Johns  Pedersen  110 

Lincoln  Mabel  Law  Atkinson  110 

Sacrifice Gertrude    Kovan  115 

Elms   in  Winter  Dorothy   J.   Roberts   116 

Forgotten  Ladder  Grace  Barker  Wilson  121 

Storm-Bent  Pine  Iris  W.   Schow  125 

Advice  to  a  Daughter  Christie  Lund  Coles  139 

Ski   Song Lizabeth    Wall  139 

Household  Hint  Lael   W.    Hill  140 

Where   Drift   Logs   Lie   Mary    Gustafson  141 

Promise  and  Fulfillment  Linnie  F.   Robinson  142 

Night  Encounter  Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard  143 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1.  Utah,  Phone  3-2741;  Sub- 
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payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
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nSlftergiow  «•* 

Anna  Prince  Rejdd    f* 

Slowly  from  the  golden,  distance 
Comes  a  breeze  to  bring  awake 
A  myriad  of  tiny  wrinkles 
On  the  features  of  the  lake. 

Twinkling  each  against  the  other, 
Curve  by  curve  and  rhythrn*deep 
Till  half  the  lake  is  milky  emerald 
While  the  rest  is  still  asleep. 

Pine-dark,  the  shadows  linger, 
Banked  against  the  afterglow 
A  sudden,  fragrant  stillness, 
And  it's  night  on  Lake  TahoeT 

Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 

Hal  Rumel 



VOL  39,   NO.  2  FEBRUARY   1952 

Seed  of  JLaman 

Alice  Money  Bailey 

They  were  inheritors  upon  this  land, 
Spared  by  the  love  between  them  and  their  wives 
Their  purity,  until  the  white  man's  hand 
Reached  out  across  the  sea  to  crush  their  lives. 
They  welcomed  the  return  of  their  fair  God, 
Nor  knew  this  was  the  wedge  that  loosed  a  flood 
Of  death,  disease,  deceit,  the  slaver's  rod 
And  pitiful  retreat  outlined  in  blood. 

And  we  who  know  their  lineage  and  their  truths, 
Their  wrongs,  their  punishments  when  they  have  sinned, 
The  faith  of  Helaman's  two  thousand  youths- 
How  shall  we  find  the  place  where  fear  is  thinned, 
The  salve  that  heals  their  wounds,  the  balm  that  soothes 
When  hatreds  ravel  out  along  the  wind? 

These  are  many  nations,  brought  too  low, 
Of  gardeners,  thrust  out  on  barren  rocks, 
Of  hunters,  shorn  of  prowess,  prey,  and  bow, 
And  herders,  robbed  of  grazing  lands  and  flocks. 
Too  patient  are  the  hands  on  empty  looms, 
Submissive  fishermen  deprived  of  streams, 
Too  placid  in  the  land  where  hunger  dooms, 
And  hopelessness  replaces  fire-bright  dreams. 

And  we  who  have  their  records  hold  the  key 

Of  their  release;  we  have  the  joyful  sound 

Of  truth  to  bring  long-due  redress  in  good, 

The  knowledge  and  the  power  to  make  them  free, 

And  we  who  know  the  promises  are  bound 

To  open  wide  our  hearts  in  brotherhood. 

The  Cover:  Yuccas  in  the  White  Sands  Near  Alamogordo,  New  Mexico 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

The  Place  of  Relief  Society 
in  the  Indian  Program 

Elder  Delbert  Leon  Stapley 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Indian  Relations  Department  of  the  Annual  General 
Relief  Society  Conference,  October  3,  1951] 

I  AM  very  happy  to  be  with  you 
today  to  take  part  in  this  Re- 
lief Society  conference  and 
represent  the  Indian  Relations 
committee  on  this  program. 

We  have  been  most  gratified 
with  the  excellent  work  of  our  Re- 
lief Societies  among  the  Indian 
peoples.  There  is  a  real  challenge 
to  the  Relief  Society  in  this  work; 
and  it  seems  to  me  you  are  organ- 
ized and  have  the  type  of  program 
that  these  people  greatly  need. 

Laying  the  foundation  for  what 
I  want  to  say,  I  would  like  to  quote 
from  the  Nephite  record,  one  from 
the  writings  of  Nephi,  one  from  a 
statement  of  the  Savior,  and  one 
from  Mormon. 

When  Lehi  spoke  to  his  children 
and  likened  the  house  of  Israel  to 
an  olive  tree,  he  spoke  of  the  nat- 
ural branches  being  broken  off  and 
a  time  when  the  blessings  of  the 
covenant  race  would  be  restored 
through  the  Gentiles.  The  breth- 
ren of  Nephi  did  not  understand 
what  their  father  meant,  so  they 
asked  Nephi  about  it.  Nephi  said 
this  to  them: 

And  now,  the  thing  which  our  father 
meaneth  concerning  the  grafting  in  of 
the  natural  branches  through  the  ful- 
ness of  the  Gentiles,  is,  that  in  the  latter 
days,  when  our  seed  shall  have  dwindled 
in  unbelief,  yea,  for  the  space  of  many 
years,  and  many  generations  after  the 
Messiah  shall  be  manifested  in  body  un- 

Poge  76 

to  the  children  of  men,  then  shall  the 
fulness  of  the  gospel  of  the  Messiah  come 
unto  the  Gentiles,  and  from  the  Gen- 
tiles unto  the  remnant  of  our  seed. 

And  at  that  day  shall  the  remnant  of 
our  seed  know  that  they  are  of  the  house 
of  Israel,  and  that  they  are  the  covenant 
people  of  the  Lord;  and  then  shall  they 
know,  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
their  forefathers,  and  also  to  the  gospel 
of  their  Redeemer,  which  was  ministered 
unto  their  fathers  by  him;  wherefore, 
they  shall  come  to  the  knowledge  of  their 
Redeemer  and  the  very  points  of  his 
doctrine,  that  they  may  know  how  to 
come  unto  him  and  be  saved. 

And  then  at  that  day  will  they  not  re- 
joice and  give  praise  unto  their  ever- 
lasting God,  their  rock  and  their  salva- 
tion?  (I  Nephi  15:13-15). 

When  the  Savior  appeared  to 
the  Nephites  he  gave  them  a  sign 
by  which  they  should  know  and 
understand  when  his  work  and 
word  would  commence  among 
them.  Now  there  were  three  points 
to  this  sign:  First,  it  had  to  do  with 
the  establishment  of  God's  Church 
among  the  Gentiles  in  this  land  of 
freedom;  second,  the  coming  forth 
of  The  Book  of  Mormon,  and  the 
teaching  of  The  Book  of  Mormon 
message  to  Lehi's  descendants;  and 
third,  that  Jerusalem  was  to  be 
established  again.  And  then  said 
the  Savior  to  the  Nephites: 

And  when  these  things  come  to  pass 
that  thy  seed  shall  begin  to  know  these 


things — it  shall  be  a  sign  unto  them,  that  Christ  for  their  shepherd;  yea,  they  were 
they  may  know  that  the  work  of  the  Fa-  led  even  by  God  the  Father.  But  now, 
ther  hath  already  commenced  unto  the  behold,  they  are  led  about  by  Satan.  .  .  . 
fulfilling  of  the  covenant  which  he  hath  And  behold,  the  Lord  hath  reserved  their 
made  unto  the  people  who  are  of  the  blessings,  which  they  might  have  re- 
house of  Israel  (3  Nephi  21:7).  ceived  in  the  land,  for  the  Gentiles  who 

shall  possess  the  land.  But  behold,  it  shall 

DrmixT^    li       3.-            c    Ait  come   to  pass   that   they   shall  be   driven 

URING  the  time  of  Mormon  and  scatte^ed  by  the  dentiles;  and  after 

after  the  period  of  devotion  and  they  have  been   driven  and   scattered  by 

faithfulness  on  the  part  of  the  peo-  the  Gentiles,  behold,  then  will  the  Lord 

pie  When  they  lived  as  one  and  en-  remember  the  covenant  which   he  made 

*        ,          r   ii                      Li       i-i  unto   Abraham    and    unto    all    the    house 

joyed  in  full  measure  the  blessings  of  Israel  (Mormon  5:10  ff.). 
of  our  Heavenly  Father,  they  be- 
gan to  turn  to  evil  ways  and  to  We  see  from  these  three  pas- 
forsake  the  Lord.  Alma  foresaw  sages  of  Nephite  scripture  the  time 
the  destruction  that  would  take  spoken  of  has  come  when  the  gos- 
place  among  the  Nephites  and  pel  message  shall  go  to  the  descend- 
commented  upon  their  complete  ants  of  Lehi  and  through  the  Gen- 
destruction.  And  also,  looking  in-  tiles  their  blessings  will  be  restored, 
to  the  latter  days,  he  saw  that  the  And  again  they  shall  come  to  the 
gospel  and  Church  would  be  re-  knowledge  of  their  forefathers  and 
stored  to  the  descendants  of  Lehi  a  realization  that  they  are  of  the 
through  the  Gentiles.  The  Gentiles,  house  of  Israel.  They  are  one  of  the 
the  Lord  said,  should  scatter  the  broken  natural  branches  of  the  olive 
descendants  of  Lehi  and  they  tree,  that  have  been  scattered,  but  in 
should  be  counted  as  naught  the  latter  days,  through  the  Gen- 
among  them.  tiles,  this  natural  branch  is  to  be 
Mormon  says:  grafted  back,  that  they  may  realize 

the  blessings  of  our  Heavenly  Fa- 

.  .  .  This  I  speak  unto  their  seed,  and  ther. 

also  to  the  Gentiles  who  have  care  for  N*            ^      Latter-day      Saints, 

the    house    of    Israel,    that    realize    and  .            '  rjT,      ~      ,      £A/ 

know   from  whence  their  blessings  come  through  The  Book  of  Mormon,  un- 

....  These  things  are  written  unto  the  derstand    and    know    the    origin    of 

remnant  of  the  house  of  Jacob  ...  to  be  this    people.      We   also   know    they 

hid   up   unto   the   Lord   that   they   may  are  0f  the  chosen  of  the  Lord  and 

come   forth   in  his  own   due  time.    .   .   .  f    ^     house      £    j        L   We   knQW 

Thev  shall  go  unto  the  .   .   .    lews  ...  .        .   -  ~, ■  '   .          , 

that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  what  the  promises  of  God  to  them 

living  God.  .  .  .  And  also  that  the  seed  are,    and    that    these    promises    will 

of    this    people   may    more    fully   believe  be   restored   to   them   in   the   latter 

his    gospel,    which    shall    go    forth    unto  d            And  the  fact  that  we  realize 

them   from   the  Gentiles;  for  this  people  .-.  J        ,,  .             i       i  j         i              r^i 

shall    be    scattered,    and    shall    become    a  th^e   things,   should   make    US   feel 

dark,  and  filthy,  and  a  loathsome  people,  the  great  responsibility  that  is  ours 

beyond    the    description    of    that    which  in  carrying  the  gospel  message  to 

ever    hath    been    amongst    us,    yea,    even  them 

that    which    hath    been    among    the    La-  Brother   john  T     ,        dud        his 

manites,    and    this    because    or    their    un-  _     .    .         K               r»       •  i            ?  ja. 

belief  and  idolatry.  .  .  .  They  were  once  administration   as   President  of   the 

a    delightsome    people,    and    they    had  Church,   said:      "The   work   of   the 



Hal  Rumel 


Lord  among  the  Lamanites  must 
not  be  postponed  if  we  desire  to 
retain  the  approval  of  God/'  Thus 
far  we  have  been  content  simply  to 
baptize  them  and  let  them  run  wild 
again,  but  this  must  continue  no 
longer.  The  same  devoted  effort, 
the  same  care  and  instruction,  the 
same  organization  and  Priesthood 
must  be  introduced  and  maintained 
among  the  house  of  Lehi  as 
amongst  those  of  Israel  gathered 
from  Gentile  nations.  As  yet  God 
has  been  doing  all  and  we  com- 
paratively nothing.  He  has  led  many 
of  them  to  us,  and  they  have  been 
baptized  and  now  we  must  in- 
struct them  further  and  organize 
them,    says    Brother    John    Taylor 

"into  churches  with  proper  presi- 
dencies. Attach  them  to  our  stakes, 
organizations,  etc.  In  one  word, 
treat  them  exactly  in  these  respects 
as  we  would  do  and  treat  our  white 
brethren."  Nothing  could  be  more 
plain  than  that  as  to  our  responsi- 
bility to  these  people. 

DECENTLY  our  late  President 
George  Albert  Smith  in  rein- 
augurating  this  work  among  the 
Indian  people  said:  "The  day  is 
here  for  the  gospel  to  go  to  the 
Lamanites  and  we  must  never  fail 
them  again."  And  when  President 
David  O.  McKay  became  President, 
he  reiterated  what  President  George 
Albert    Smith    had    said,   and   also 



added:  "God  will  hold  us  account- 
able if  we  fail." 

I  am  sure,  brothers  and  sisters,, 
that  is  our  responsibility  today. 
These  people  have  been  many  years 
falling  into  their  present  condition, 
and  while  they  have  had  some  ad- 
vantages from  our  Government 
program,  it  hasn't  been  in  the  full 
spirit  of  love  and  understanding 
that  we  who  understand  their 
origin  and  God's  promises  con- 
cerning them  can  give,  and  because 
that  is  true  the  responsibility  is 
ours  to  take  to  them  the  love,  un- 
derstanding, and  blessings  of  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  that  they 
may  turn  to  the  Lord  and  thus 
realize  the  great  blessings  belonging 
to  the  house  of  Israel. 

Now,  I  know  it  will  take  a  lot  of 
devotion  on  our  part.  I  know  many 
of  us  will  have  to  do  things  per- 
haps we  thought  we  would  never  be 
called  upon  to  do;  but  those  who 
have  been  engaged  in  working 
among  these  people  have  learned 
to  love  and  appreciate  them,  and 
as  they  see  their  lack  of  opportun- 
ity, realize  through  the  auxiliaries  of 
the  Church  they  can  receive  the  op- 
portunities that  have  been  denied 
them  for  so  many  years.  And  we 
must,  as  a  people,  holding  the  truth 
and  belonging  to  the  true  Church, 
do  everything  we  can  to  take  the 
gospel  message  to  them  and  lift 
them  up  that  they  may  enjoy  the 
great  blessings  that  God  has  prom- 
ised them.  It  seems  to  me  it  re- 
quires a  lot  of  love,  a  lot  of  patience, 
and  a  lot  of  perseverance;  and  we 
must  be  careful  to  keep  the  prom- 
ises that  we  make,  and  show  real 
and  sustained  interest  as  we  work 
among  them,  and  never  fail  them 

in  anything  that  we  start  to  do  or 
that  we  promise  to  do. 

One  of  the  missionaries  recount- 
ed this  observation  by  one  of  our 
Lamanite  brothers.  He  said,  "Whv 
have  you  Mormons  been  so  long 
in  coming  to  the  Indian  people? 
You  have  been  here  for  many  years, 
yet  other  churches  have  been  work- 
ing among  us  for  a  long  time." 
Then  others  of  the  older  group 
said,  "The  Mormons  come  and 
work  among  the  Indians  for  a  while 
and  then  leave.  Other  churches 
come  and  stay;  they  don't  go  away." 

Well,  this  is  a  legitimate  charge 
and  indictment  against  us,  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  because  that 
has  been  our  history.  We  have 
started  and  stopped,  but  now  this 
program  must  go  on.  The  day  is 
here.  The  prophet  of  the  Lord 
has  said,  "The  message  of  the  re- 
stored gospel  must  go  to  the  In- 
dians; we  will  be  held  accountable 
if  we  fail  to  accept  and  fulfil  this 

f\UR  program  of  necessity  must 
be  flexible.  I  don't  think  in 
all  of  our  work  and  activity  we  have 
yet  hit  upon  a  program  for  the  Re- 
lief Society,  or  any  of  the  other 
auxiliary  organizations,  for  that  mat- 
ter, that  can  be  employed  among 
all  the  tribes  of  these  people.  They 
are  different.  Some  respond  read- 
ily to  the  gospel  message,  with  oth- 
ers it  takes  a  little  more  time,  and 
still  others  are  more  difficult.  But 
it  does  seem  to  me  if  we  would 
record  and  assemble  all  our  experi- 
ences among  these  people,  that  a 
study  of  them  might  be  made,  there 
would  evolve  at  least  a  foundation 
program  that  all  stakes  could   use 



in  the  Indian  work.  We  are  yet 
somewhat  experimenting  in  what 
we  are  trying  to  do. 

Now  as  to  some  of  the  things 
that  the  Relief  Society  can  do.  Our 
first  responsibility,  of  course,  would 
be  to  lift  these  people  up  from  their 
forlorn  condition,  implant  pride  of 
race  and  lineage,  and  give  them  a 
feeling  of  belonging  and  accept- 
ance as  brothers  and  sisters  in  the 
gospel,  that  they  can  enjoy  the  great 
blessings  present  in  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ.  As  I  have  seen  the 
Relief  Society  organization  func- 
tion among  the  Indians,  they  are 
an  effective  proselyting  organiza- 
tion, that  can  and  does  contribute 
much  to  their  lives.  The  program 
of  the  Relief  Society,  it  seems  to 
me,  can  awaken  an  interest  and  a 
desire  for  better  things  on  the  part 
of  the  Indian  people. 

We  must  do  basic  things  in  work- 
ing with  them.  Surely  we  need  to 
talk  to  them  about  personal  clean- 
liness, and  good  habits,  also  proper 
moral  conditions,  and  behavior.  We 
must  teach  them  about  the  home, 
how  it  should  be  arranged  and  kept 
and  go  right  in  and  demonstrate 
these  things  to  them.  It  is  the  op- 
portunity that  the  Relief  Society 
has.  I  know  we  must  approach  it 
with  a  lot  of  love  and  a  lot  of  con- 
sideration. We  don't  want  to  em- 
barrass them;  we  do  want  to  be 
helpful.  But  we  must  be  forth- 
right as  we  go  forward  in  this  work, 
for  so  much  depends  upon  our 
meeting  every  problem  and  being 
honest  and  sincere  in  the  solution 
of  them.  I  am  sure  if  we  approach 
these  people  with  proper  under- 
standing and  in  the  sincerity  of  our 
hearts,  that  they  will  respond  and 

will  support  us  in  the  work  that  we 
are  trying  to  do  among  them. 

Now,  many  of  the  fine  things 
that  the  Relief  Society  can  do  have 
already  been  enumerated.  This  mat- 
ter of  care  of  the  home  that  I  have 
spoken  to  you  about,  the  care  and 
feeding  of  babies  and  children,  the 
preparation  of  foods,  the  canning 
of  foods,  the  making  of  soap,  the 
making  of  quilts,  sewing,  and  all 
these  various  things  the  Relief  So- 
ciety can  introduce  and  help  these 
people  with  in  order  that  their 
standard  of  living  can  be  lifted.  We 
should  call  upon  them  to  purchase 
the  materials  for  processing  or  sew- 
ing, and  then  help  them  in  making 
up  the  materials  for  use.  If  it  is 
sewing,  teach  them  to  sew;  or  if  it 
is  fruits  and  vegetables,  show  them 
how  they  can  be  canned.  Take 
them  to  the  welfare  canning  centers 
where  they  can  be  taught  and  helped 
with  these  very  important  matters. 

/^UITE  often  among  us  come 
^  medical  agencies  of  the  Govern- 
ment or  state  who  render  a  health 
service.  Whenever  these  oppor- 
tunities are  present,  the  Relief  So- 
ciety should  take  advantage  of  them 
by  inviting  Indian  brothers  and 
sisters  to  these  medical  clinics  to 
have  examinations  or  other  tests. 
Surely,  it  gives  you  an  opportunity 
to  teach  them  something  about  the 
cause  of  disease,  its  prevention  and 
care,  and  many  very  important 
things  to  the  Indians  can  grow  out 
of  such  an  experience. 

It  has  been  mentioned  today 
about  using  the  Indian  women  as  of- 
ficers of  the  Relief  Society;  to  call 
upon  them  to  sing  solos  or  in  groups, 
teach  them  to  lead  singing  groups 



and  then  recognize  these  choruses 
at  conferences  or  other  gatherings, 
because  all  these  things  are  helpful 
and  instill  a  desire  in  these  good  peo- 
ple for  better  things.  It  also  breaks 
down  barriers  and  gives  them  a 
feeling  of  being  wanted  in  this  great 
Church  program  of  ours.  During 
times  of  illness  and  death  among 
these  people,  the  Relief  Society  can 
render  a  very  valuable  service,  and 
perhaps  that  service  will  lead  to 
investigation  of  the  Church;  after 
all,  that  is  the  thing  we  are  trying 
to  do,  and  we  should  not  overlook 
an  opportunity  through  our  service 
that  would  permit  us  to  teach  them 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

One  of  our  good  Relief  Society 
presidents  said: 

One  of  the  most  satisfying  experiences 
to  me  has  been  the  times  when  I  have 
been  called  upon  to  take  care  of  the 
funerals  for  our  Indian  people.  We 
had  attended  a  number  of  such  gath- 
erings taken  care  of  by  other  churches 
and  groups;  and  I  have  felt  that  it  would 
be  a  wonderful  opportunity  for  us  if  the 
time  ever  came  that  we  could  take  care 
of  a  funeral  and  really  show  these  good 
people  how  we  felt  it  should  be  done. 
It  was  not  too  long  before  one  of  our 
elderly  Relief  Society  members  passed 
away.  I  called  to  see  her  while  she  was 
very  ill,  and  she  requested  that  the  Relief 
Society  take  care  of  her  funeral  and  her 
burial.  She  was  not  a  member  of  the 
Church,  but  a  most  faithful  member  of 
our  Relief  Society.     We  made  her  burial 

Wayne  Davis 




clothes,  decorated  the  church  where  we 
meet  on  the  reservation  as  beautiful  and 
lovely  as  we  would  for  any  other  mem- 
ber of  our  wards.  The  bishop  co-oper- 
ated with  us,  and  a  member  of  the  presi- 
dency came  out  to  give  the  sermon.  The 
Indian  Singing  Mothers  furnished  the 
singing.  Some  of  us  who  knew  her  well 
were  asked  to  give  short  tributes  to  the 
life  of  this  good  sister.  It  was  all  so 
beautiful  and  sweet,  with  no  shouting 
or  beating  of  tom-toms,  as  there  had  been 
before  on  such  occasions. 

After  the  services  the  grown .  son  of 
this  good  lady  took  both  my  hands  and, 
with  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks, 
said,  "Oh,  Sister,  how  can  I  thank  you 
enough  for  all  the  beautiful  things  you 
have  done  for  my  little  mother?  Every- 
thing was  so  wonderful  and  just  as  moth- 
er would  have  it  done.  She  asked  us  to 
learn  more  about  the  Mormon  faith,  and 
now  I  want  to  do  it.  Thank  you  again 
and  again  for  this  service." 

This  one  experience  has  opened  the 
doors  to  the  missionaries  on  the  reserva- 
tion and  given  the  Relief  Society  in- 
creased membership  and  many  opportuni- 
ties we  might  never  have  in  any  other 
way.  Since  that  time  we  have  held  a 
number  of  other  funerals  and  had  the 
opportunity  to  preach  the  gospel  to  more 
of  the  Lamanite  people  in  this  vicinity 
than  in  any  other  way,  as  everyone  from 
far  and  near  attends  the  funeral  services 
of  friends  and  relatives. 

After  a  recent  baby  funeral  one  of  our 
Indian  women  wanted  me  to  go  with  her 
to  the  home  of  the  grieving  mother  and 
tell  her  what  we  believe  about  babies  and 
the  hereafter,  where  they  go,  and  if  they 
are  condemned  because  they  are  not  bap- 
tized. Of  course,  I  was  most  happy  to 
go,  and  from  that  beginning  we  have 
made  friends  who  will  join  the  Church 
in  due  time,  I  am  sure. 

And  then  she  adds  this  very 
significant  thing:  "It  seems,  Broth- 
er Stapley,  that  everything  we  try 
to  do  for  our  Lamanite  program  is 
blessed  and  guided  by  a  power  so 
great  that  we  cannot  help  knowing 
that  the  Lord  is  helping  our  efforts 
in  this  work/' 

We  do,  brothers  and  sisters,  have 
a  real  challenge  in  this  great  pro- 
gram of  working  among  these  good 
people.  The  Relief  Society,  work- 
ing through  the  mothers,  has  an  op- 
portunity of  not  only  helping  them 
but,  through  the  work  they  do, 
break  down  resistance  and  open  the 
doors  to  our  missionaries,  that  the 
gospel  can  be  taught  to  them.  I 
believe  if  the  Relief  Society  will 
continue  going  about  this  work  with 
prayerful  and  understanding  hearts, 
the  Lord  will  open  the  way  and  give 
you  the  vision  of  the  great  assign- 
ment of  the  Relief  Society  to  these 
people.  And  the  work,  well,  it  will 
be  one  of  the  greatest  works  that 
the  Relief  Society  could  accomplish. 

I  know  that  we  must  use  all  the 
agencies  at  our  command  in  our 
work  among  these  people,  but  it 
does  seem  to  me  that  the  Relief 
Society  stands  in  an  enviable  posi- 
tion to  give  the  type  of  teaching 
and  instruction  these  people  require. 

May  the  Lord  help  you  to  do  this 
and  to  gain  the  joy  and  the  happi- 
ness associated  with  it,  I  humbly 
pray  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ, 

Sc        * 


For  he  that  diligently  seeketh  shall  find;  and  the  mysteries  of  God  shall  be  unfolded 
unto  them  ...  as  well  in  these  times  as  in  times  of  old,  and  as  well  in  times  of  old  as  in 
times  to  come;  wherefore,  the  course  of  the  Lord  is  one  eternal  round  (I  Nephi  10:19). 

of  each  the  JLamanttes  the  (gospel  of (fesus  Lshnst 

Elder  Spencer  W.  Kimball 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[From  Remarks  Made  at  the  Indian  Relations  Department  of  the  Annual 
General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  3,  1951] 

Sisters,  all  that  has  been  said  and  done  has  been  extremely 
important  to  this  program.  There  was  just  one  thought  I  wanted 
to  leave  in  the  conclusion  of  the  meeting.  The  Lord  gave  to  us 
in  revelation: 

For  behold,  this  is  my. work  and  my  glory — to  bring  to  pass 
the  immortality  and  eternal  life  of  man  (The  Pearl  of  Great  Price, 
Moses  1:39). 

Everything  we  do  should  be  a  means  to  that  end.  There  may 
be  many  Indians  and  other  minorities  and  majorities,  also,  who 
know  much  about  literature,  who  know  about  social  problems, 
who  know  how  to  make  quilts,  who  are  educated,  highly  trained 
and  cultivated,  but  who  will  never  see  eternal  life,  who  will  never 
have  immortality.  Everything  we  do,  every  move  we  make, 
every  word  we  say,  every  act,  should  be  dedicated  to  that  con- 
clusion, if  these  Indians  of  whom  we  are  speaking,  and  everyone 
else,  for  that  matter,  are  to  find  their  way  to  immortality  and 
eternal  life. 

We  must  raise  their  standards,  we  must  give  them  better 
living  conditions,  we  must  increase  their  opportunities,  but 
everything  must  be  centered  around  that  pivotal  point:  to  teach 
them  the  gospel  oi  Jesus  Christ,  and  give  them  a  testimony  oi  its 
divinity,  so  that  they  will  walk  with  us  to  the  goals  which  the  Lord 
has  set  for  us.  I  pray  that  will  be  our  happy  lot,  and  theirs,  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ.    Amen. 


.  .  .  And  I  prayed  unto  him  with  many  long  strugglings  for  my  brethren,  the 
Lamanites  .  .  .  that  if  it  should  so  be,  that  my  people,  the  Nephites,  should  fall  into 
transgression,  and  by  any  means  be  destroyed,  and  the  Lamanites  should  not  be  de- 
stroyed, that  the  Lord  God  would  preserve  a  record  of  my  people,  the  Nephites  .  .  . 
that  it  might  be  brought  forth  at  some  future  .day  unto  the  Lamanites,  that,  perhaps, 
they  might  be  brought  unto  salvation.  .  .  .  And  I  had  faith,  and  I  did  cry  unto  God 
that  he  would  preserve  the  records;  and  he  covenanted  with  me  that  he  would  bring 
them  forth  unto  the  Lamanites  in  his  own  due  time  (Enos    1:11,  13,  16). 

Page  83 

Loving  and  Working  With  Our 
Lamanite  Sisters 

MyrJe  Fowlei,  Sevier  Stake 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Indian  Relations  Department  of  the  Annual  General 
Relief  Society  Conference,  October  3,  1951] 

MY  dear  brothers  and  sisters,  many  have  asked  how  much    La- 

my   first   thought  on   being  manite  blood  I  have.  I  am  sorry  to 

asked  to  accept  this  assign-  have  to  answer,  "I  have  none,"  for 

ment  was  "No!  In  my  weakness,  I  I  wish  I  were  a  legal  heir  to  the 

cannot/'   Then,  for  a  moment,  the  blessings  in  store  for  this  people, 

weight  of  the  combined  problems  The  Lord  can   take  our  weakness 

of  my  Lamanite  friends  seemed  to  and  turn  it  into  strength.  He  can 

be  resting  on  my  shoulders.  I  hope  use   the   weakest   of   the   weak   to 

and  pray  the  Lord  will  use  me  to  fulfill  his  promises  to  these  people, 

awaken  new  hearts  to  the  Lamanite  The    Lord    loves    the    Lamanite 

work.  people  and  expects  us  to  encourage 

Our  work  among  these  sisters  them  to  greater  confidence  in  them- 
must  be  guided  by  our  hearts  rather  selves,  to  use  their  latent  leader- 
than  the  reasoning  power  of  our  ship  abilities  to  raise  themselves 
minds.  This  is  a  new  field,  yet  we  from  the  dust  of  despair,  where  we, 
know  the  harvest  is  sure,  for  God  through  superior  attitudes,  have  im- 
has  told  us  so  through  his  prophets,  prisoned  them.  I  have  been  as 
Still,  we,  in  our  weakness,  must  guilty  as  any  in  the  past,  and  1  still 
pioneer  the  way.  There  are  rocks  must  be  constantly  on  guard  that 
to  be  removed  that  seem  almost  as  the  reasoning  power  of  my  mind 
boulders  beyond  our  strength  to  does  not  take  over  and  lead  me 
remove,  brush  to  be  uprooted  and  away  from  the  whisperings  of  the 
burned,  plowing  and  planting  to  be  Spirit  to  my  heart, 
done  with  prayerful  consideration.  We  have  to  learn  the  hard  way 
We  have  been  trusted  with  the  that  these  people  cannot  yet  be  ex- 
transplanting,  weeding,  pruning,  pected  to  stay  on  the  path  we  lead, 
and  all  things  necessary  to  bring  We  have  to  keep  reaching  out  to 
forth  a  glorious  harvest.  them.    We  learn  what  forgiveness 

How  is  it  going  to  be  done?     I  means  in  all  its  aspects.    They  may 

confess,  I  have  no  blueprint.  I  can  take    one    step    forward    and    two 

only  tell  you  a  little  of  my  experi-  steps  back,  for  we  are  leading  them 

ence.  in  paths  they  have  never  known, 

The  way  was  opened  before  me.  and  the  enemy  of  righteousness 
I  have  worked,  under  the  call  of  the  never  sleeps.  He  works  twenty- 
Priesthood,  with  Piutes,  Hopis,  four  hours  a  day— every  day  of  the 
Utes,  and  Navajo  people,  and  I  am  year. 

proud  of  my  friends  among  them.  We   cannot   make   many   plans, 

I  am  among  them  so  much  that  foT  each  day  brings  new  problems 

Page  84 



we    could    not    have   foreseen.     A 
willing  and  a  submissive  spirit  will 
enable  the  Lord  to  direct  our  ac- 
Navajo  leaders  tell  us: 

We  have  been  told  our  history  would 
be  returned  to  us  by  our  people — white 
people.  All  white  people  are  not  our 
people,  but  the  ones  who  are  our  people 
were  our  cousins  a  long  time  back.  When 
our  people  come  we  will  know  it  in  our 
hearts,  for  they  will  laugh  with  us  when 
we  are  happy  and  cry  with  us  in  our 
sorrow,  not  turn  away  from  us  because 
they  are  far  ahead  of  us  on  the  road,  but 
will  look  back  to  us  and  take  our  hand 
and  help  us  catch  up.  We  are  like  a 
baby  learning  to  walk.  And  you  are 
running  around  and  even  dancing  along 
the  road.  We  took  one  step  when  our 
boys  went  into  service  and  came  back 
to  tell  us  where  we  were — way  behind. 
Then  we  got  a  chance  to  work  among 
you.  It  was  another  step  for  some,  but 
for  others  ten  steps  backwards,  for  they 
learned  some  pretty  bad  things.  They 
got  on  wrong  roads  to  travel,  but  we 
knew  this  would  happen  because  they 
don't  want  to  listen  to  the  old  ones  any- 
more and  want  to  just  have  good  times. 
So  we  know  the  day  must  come  quick 
for  our  people  to  get  together,  or  our 
young  people  are  lost.  We  pray  for  the 
white  people  to  forget  about  money  and 
things  and  accept  us  as  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, then  we  can  tell  you  some  things 
we  know,  for  we  know  more  yet  than 
you  have  in  your  books,  but  we  need 
"Go  ma  lah's  book,"  Mormon's  book,  to 
tell  us  some  things  we  don't  know. 

Sisters,  even  though  we  do  not 
speak  the  tongue  of  this  people, 
that  is  no  reason  to  pass  them  by. 
Our  eyes  can  meet,  our  smiles  of 
friendship  can  lift  them  up  with- 
out words.  And  when  we  do  find 
someone  we  can  talk  with,  we  must 
not  ask  them  idle  questions  out  of 
curiosity,  they  resent  it. 

TT  is  easy  to  love  them  when  they 

live  beautiful  lives  and  do  things 
that  bring  honor  to  our  efforts.  The 
true  test  comes  when  they  go  con- 
trary to  our  teachings,  for  then  they 
need  our  love  in  all  its  strength  and 
the  healing  power  of  forgiveness. 
Let's  not  see  their  negative  side. 
Look  beneath  the  things  we  see  and 
hear  that  are  not  good,  and  only 
let  the  good  things  we  find  enter 
our  consciousness.  The  evil  one  is 
alert  to  destroy  this  work,  and  he 
will  show  us  every  way  he  can  their 
faults  and  put  obstacles  in  our 
paths.  As  one  of  our  apostles  has 
said,  'Tut  the  devil  in  a  barrel  and 
sit  on  the  lid."  We  must  not  give 
in  to  an  attitude  of  defeat. 

Sisters,  let  us  unite  to  plan,  pray, 
and  dare  to  dream,  then  work  till 
our  dream  comes  true. 

Elder  Kimball  once  said,  "I  wish 
my  pen  had  the  gift  of  tears  and  I 
would  make  the  whole  world  weep 
for  these  people/' 

May  I  echo  his  cry  and  add, 
"Yes!  Let  us  weep  for  these  people, 
and  let  our  tears  melt  the  pride  in 
our  hearts  that  we  may  be  moved 
to  action." 

We  can  help  them  most  by  using 
the  healing  power  of  charity  and 
love.  By  occupying  our  minds  with 
the  problems  of  this  people,  we 
will  ease  the  sting  of  personal  dis- 

I  have  slept  on  a  sheepskin  in 
Navajo  hogans  and  eaten  their  food. 
The  warm  hospitality  and  peaceful 
spirit  of  their  humble  homes  is  be- 
yond description.  In  these  hogans 
I  have  been  taught  many  sacred 
and  beautiful  truths.  These  people 
are  not  uneducated,  as  we  imagine. 
Most    of    them    cannot    read    and 



write  or  speak  English,  but  neither 
do  we  know  the  truths  Mother  Na- 
ture teaches  their  responsive  hearts. 
Let  us  teach  them,  but  let  us  let 
them  also  teach  us.  Let  us  correct 
in  our  homes  the  "cowboys-and- 
Indians"  version  taught  in  pictures 
and  stories.  Let  us  ask  the  Lord  to 
bless  us  that  we  may  not  be  of- 
fended by  the  things  we  see,  and 
to  touch  our  hearts  to  help  the 
Lamanite  people  overcome  objec- 
tionable conditions.  When  their 
children  come  among  us  covered 
with  impetigo  sores  and  other  skin 
eruptions,  do  we  pass  them  as  un- 
clean, or  do  we  offer  them  some 
penicillin  ointment? 

npHEY  need  help  with  their  sick. 
We  can  teach  them  proper  care 
of  their  babies,  proper  nutrition.  I 
cannot  appeal  to  you  too  strongly. 
Help  them  with  their  babies.  These 
little  innocent  darlings  are  choice 
spirits  sent  forth  in  this  day  not 
only  to  help  their  people,  but  to 
keep  us  in  paths  of  duty.  I  wish 
you  could  see,  as  I  have  seen,  the 
needless  suffering  among  them. 
They  are  keeping  God's  command- 
ment to  multiply,  but  too  many  of 
their  little  ones  return  to  the  heav- 
enly home  soon  after  having 
breathed  the  breath  of  life.  Why, 


I  saw  his  fight  for  life  and  heard  his  dying  cry. 

My  heart  in  sorrow  rife  asks  a  simple  question,  "Why?" 

Why  hadn't  we  told  this  Mother,  e'er  her  dear  little  son  grew  ill, 

That  we  were  her  sister  or  brother?    Is  her  suffering  by  God's  will? 

Why  didn't  she  know  of  wonder  drugs,  of  the  help  we'd  gladly  give? 
Did  she  know  the  day  she  gave  him  birth  of  the  chance  he  had  to  live? 
She  knew  for  her  bread  she.  would  have  to  work  in  the  fields  by  the  side  of 

her  mate, 
For  that  is  the  lot  of  an  Indian,  by  some  cruel  and  unkind  fate. 

Did  her  heart  rejoice,  or  was  she  sad  on  the  day  birth  pangs  were  still? 
As  she  looked  in  the  eyes  of  her  little  lad,  did  she  know  about  germs  that  kill? 
I'm  sure  in  her  heart  she  breathed  a  prayer,  as  her  dear  little  son  lay  dead, 
That  we  would  awaken  to  heed  the  call  along  paths  where  Jesus  led. 

— Myrle  Fowler 

We  must  consider  what  the  In- 
dians have  to  work  with  and  teach 
them  only  basic  and  simple  health 
rules.  I  wish  we  could  all  visit 
them  in  their  homes,  then  we 
would  know  how  much  our  help  is 

These  people  have  been  taught 
through  the  experience  of  the  past 
to  be  cautious  and  suspicious  of 
white  people,  so  it  is  a  slow  pro- 

cess. We  must  not  promise  any- 
thing we  do  not  mean  to  do.  They 
are  gifted  to  discern,  even  without 
words,  if  we  are  their  friends.  They 
only  respond  heart  to  heart,  so  we 
must  keep  our  negative  thoughts 
out  of  the  mirror  of  our  expression, 
or  they  will  read  them  and  turn 
from  us. 

Sisters,  they  need  our  love,  the 
(Continued  on  page  143) 

Second  Lrnze  Story 

J/tnnual  uielief  Society  Snort  Story  (contest 

No  Tears,  Beloved 

Blanche  Kendall  McKey 

JEANETTE  certainly  was  not  the 
"Little  Jean"  her  name  implied. 
She  was  tall,  spare,  and  straight- 
lined.  There  was  no  sag  to  her 
broad  shoulders,  and  her  hands, 
big-jointed  and  gray-veined,  spoke 
more  of  strength  than  of  toil.  Even 
now,  folded  passively  across  her 
wide  black  belt,  they  suggested 
vigor.  Her  mother  and  her  grand- 
mother both  had  withstood  the 
hardships  of  Utah  pioneering. 

For  her  years  Jeanette  was  still  a 
handsome  woman,  with  large  regu- 
lar features  and  full  dark  eyes.  She 
was  standing  over  one  of  the  twin 
beds  in  her  hotel  room,  looking 
down  at  a  sleeping  child,  recently 
turned  four.  His  profile  was  deli- 
cate, his  cheeks  pink,  his  small  nose 
dotted  with  freckles.  Sunk  deep 
in  sleep,  his  knees  tucked  almost 
up  to  his  chest,  his  slim  fingers 
curled,  he  looked  very  small  and 
inadequate  as  a  human  personality. 
She  felt  her  eyelids  sting  and  her 
throat  swell.  No  tears,  she  thought, 
but  how  fast  the  month  had  fled 
since  the  arrival  of  Clinton's  letter. 
They  were  at  the  fork  in  the  road, 
she  and  little  Hal! 

Clinton  couldn't  help  being 
proud  of  his  son,  she  thought.  She 
had  done  a  good  job  and  knew  that 
her  son-in-law  would  recognize  it. 
That  was  really  all  that  mattered. 


Only  it  did  seem  strange  to  think 
of  Clinton  on  a  second  honeymoon. 
She  crossed  to  her  small  travel- 
ing bag  and  took  out  a  picture  of 
her  daughter  in  a  tiny  velvet  case 
that  Ginnie  had  sent  her  on  the 
first  honeymoon.  To  California 
that  time  in  an  old  Ford,  Clinton 
still  in  uniform,  and  both  of  them 
laughing  like  two  kids.  That's 
what  they  had  been,  just  kids!  Gin- 
nie hadn't  been  much  more  than  a 
kid  two  years  later,  when  she  died. 
No  girl  had  ever  wanted  to  live  more 
than  Ginnie  had.     And  everything 

Page  87 


had  been  over  so  terribly  soon,  be-  ovei  the  tub  and  called  through 
fore  Jeanette  could  even  reach  Salt  the  door,  "Hurry,  honey.  Hop  in— 
Lake.  But  the  baby  had  lived,  the  water's  seasoned/' 
Pain  stabbed  at  the  back  of  her  It  was  rather  a  gay  adventure,  all 
eyes,  her  chest  too  full  for  breath-  things  considered,  a  few  tender 
ing.  She  folded  the  little  case  and  hours  to  remember  when  the  mo- 
tucked  it  back  into  the  pocket  of  mentous  day  was  gone.  The  last 
her  bag.    No  tears,  beloved!  time  she  would  have  him  all  to  her- 

A  glance  in  the  mirror  showed  self!  They  wandered  through 
her  that  Clinton  would  see  how  Temple  Square,  admiring  the  pan- 
she  had  aged.  That  didn't  matter,  sies  and  petunias,  and  looked  for 
either— perhaps  he  had  changed  goldfish  in  the  tiny  "Seagull"  pond, 
too.  She  had  not  known  Clinton  They  peered  into  the  great  Taber- 
very  well,  a  city  boy  whom  Ginnie  nacle,  with  its  long  rows  of  shining 
had  met  at  the  university.  What  benches;  and  wondered  how  tall 
did  matter  was  Hal.  She  hadn't  the  Angel  Moroni  really  was,  way  up 
promised  to  give  him  up;  she  had  there  in  the  blue, 
written  that  she  hoped  she  could. 

She  wasn't  going  to  hand  Ginnie's  UAL  was  all  questions:     What's 

baby  over  to  anybody.     This  new  ll  this?     What's     that?     What's 

girl  had  better  be  someone  special!  these?  Truly  a  boy  of  promise,  with 

Ginnie  seemed   to  be   right  there  sucn    direct   eyes   and   stout   little 

with   her   in   the  unfamiliar  hotel  legs!  Everyone  they  met  seemed  to 

room.    A  wave  of  weakness  swept  notice  him. 
her,  but  she  stiffened.  No  tears!  j^  rode  on  a  bus  to  the  east- 

Jeanette  sat  down  on  the  side  ern  foothills  and  gazed  on  the  wide 

of  Hal's  bed  and  pushed  his  blond  sweeping  valley  with  its  masses  of 

hair  back  from  his  forehead.  trees,  its  spires  and  domes.    Far  to 

"Wake   up,    Hally.     Wake    up,  the   west    the   mountains    were    a 

dear.    It's  morning."  purple  shadow,  but  the  near  hum- 

The    boy's    eyes    popped    open,  mocks  rolled  above  them,  patched 

"Where's  Rags?"  with  green,  and  behind  these  tow- 

"You  know  where  Rags  is.  Down  ered  the  rounded  summit, 
home  on  the  farm  with  Jake  and         'The  people  who  settled   Utah 
the  other  fellows.     We're  in  Salt  learned  to  love  the  mountains,"  she 
Lake  City,  you  know.    This  is  our  said;  and  after  a  moment  of  retro- 
vacation.    Come,  hurry."  spection   she  added,   'The   moun- 

She  bustled  into  the  bathroom  tains  made  them  strong." 
and   turned   the   faucets.     "We're         He  wrestled  with  the  idea  for  a 

going  to  have  breakfast  in  a  restau-  second,  his  keen  eyes  questioning, 

rant.  Think  of  it!  And  then  we're  and  then  gave  up  the  riddle.    "I'm 

going  to  ride  up  and  see  the  place  hungry,  Grandma,"  he  said, 
where  you  were  born."  They  walked  toward  town  under 

"Has  Daddy  come?"  wide-spreading  trees,  the  air  spicy 

"Not  yet.    Not  for  a  long  time."  from  the  petunia  beds  that  lined 

She    straightened    from    bending  most  of  the  lawns  and  sweet  with 



the  fragrance  of  roses.  It  wasn't 
long  before  they  discovered  a  small 
drugstore  with  an  enticing  lunch 
counter  where  the  boy  ate  hungrily, 
nor  noticed  his  grandmother's  lack 
of  appetite,  and  smiled  at  her  hap- 
pily over  their  ice-cream  soda  glasses. 

"Come,  Hally,"  she  said  when 
his  straw  began  to  make  little 
squeaking  sounds,  "come,  we're 
going  to  see  the  hospital  where  you 
were  born." 

"Do  we  go  on  a  bus?" 

"Yes,  dear." 

"Oh,  boy!" 

The  ride  was  exciting  and  satisfy- 
ing, although  the  Main  Street 
crowds  and  the  business  of  trans- 
ferring to  another  bus  were  a  little 
confusing  to  both  of  them.  But 
they  reached  the  large  building  and 
stood  gazing  up  at  the  many  win- 

"Can  we  go  inside?"  he  asked. 

She  answered  with  genuine 
shrinking.  "Oh,  no.  That's  out 
of  the  question— we  don't  know 

"What's  in  there?" 

"Lots  of  rooms,  honey,  with  beds 
and  sick  people.  And  busy  nurses. 
And  doctors." 

She  didn't  know  herself  how 
completely  her  entire  being  went 
back  to  that  night  when  he  had 
been  born.  For  a  time  her  veiled 
eyes  saw  nothing  real.  Hal  ran  up 
and  down  the  walks  and  around  to 
the  side,  examining  everything,  and 
came  back  to  pull  her  dress. 

"What  does  that  sign  say,  Grand- 

She  answered  absently,  "No  tres- 

He  pulled  at  her  again.  "What 
does  that  mean?" 

Her  mind  had  come  back  to 
him  now.  "It  means  that  we 
mustn't  go  on  the  grass.  We 
mustn't  step  there.  That  piece  of 
ground  doesn't  belong  to  us.  Come 
along,  now,  we  must  get  back  to 
the  hotel.  We  have  to  tidy  up. 
Daddy  will  be  coming  soon." 

"Can  we  see  his  train?" 

"No.  He  told  us  to  wait  at  the 

AS  they  climbed  the  little  hill  to 
the  bus  line,  she  turned  to  look 
again  at  the  hospital  and  her  mind 
went  back  once  more  to  that  night 
four  years  ago  when  Clinton  had 
met  her  in  the  hall  and  told  her 
she  was  a  few  moments  too  late. 

Now  as  she  walked  she  held  Hal's 
hand  automatically  and  sat  down 
on  a  bench  near  the  bus  stop  scarce- 
ly knowing  that  she  moved.  The 
boy  scrambled  up  beside  her.  After 
a  time  she  realized  that  he  was 
pulling  at  her  dress  again,  and  she 
looked  down  to  see  his  upturned 
face  warm  with  childish  sympathy. 

"Grandma,  are  you  sorry  that  I 
was  born?" 

Oh,  my  darling,  she  thought,  as 
she  crushed  him  to  her.  Tears 
stabbed  at  her  eyes  and  then  re- 
ceded as  on  the  air  she  saw,  or 
thought  she  saw,  her  daughter's  face, 
eager  for  life  and  grateful  for  love. 
His  question  balanced  in  her  mind 
for  a  second;  then  she  dropped  her 
head  on  his  flaxen  hair.  I  mustn't 
trespass,  she  thought,  I  mustn't 
trespass.  It  was  the  only  answer 
she  could  find.  She  straightened, 
looking  at  him,  and  saw  that  her 
eyes  were  holding  his  own  intent 

"Don't  you  ever  forget  that  your 


Grandma  loves  you.  Loves  you  nie's  mother  he  didn't  wish  to  ex- 
more  than  she  loves  any  other  per-  hibit  too  much  pride.  Jeanette 
son  in  the  whole  world.  And  always  took  in  the  girl's  personality  at  a 
will  love  you.  And  remember,  too,  glance— the  trim  tailored  figure,  neat 
that  you  were  born  in  Utah/'  shoes,  clear  skin,  and  friendly  eyes 

"Was  Daddy  born  in  Utah?"  that  smiled  in  unison  with  her  lips. 

"Yes,  in  Salt  Lake  City.    But  his  Jeanette  extended  her  hand  and 

people  left  Utah."  Lisbeth  took  it  warmly.     "It's  so 

"Was  my  new  Ma  born  in  Utah?"  nice  to  meet  you,  Mother,"  she  said. 

She  rose,  holding  his  hand  very  Mother,  thought  Jeanette.    Clin- 

tight.    "I  don't  know,"  she  replied,  ton  had  never  called  her  "Mother." 

so  short  and  to  the  point  that  his  There  had  always  been   a   certain 

questions  ended.     The  bus  rolled  stiffness  between  them,  from  their 

down    the   hill   and    stopped;   and  first   meeting,   when   Jeanette   had 

before  long  they  were  back  in  the  told  him  Ginnie  was  too  young  for 

hotel  room,  washing  up  for  Daddy  marriage.     That    seemed    such    a 

and  the  new  "Ma."  long  time  ago! 

Jeanette    rose    when    she    heard  "And  here's  the  son,"  cried  Clin- 

Clinton's  tap  on  the  door.  ton,  his  pride  bursting  through  re- 

"Come  in,"  she  called,  tautly.  pression.     "What  a  fine,  big  son!" 

The  door  swung  open  and  they  ( Hally  is  really  small  for  four-turned, 

stood  on  the  threshold,  Clinton  and  thought  Jeanette.)    Clinton  swung 

his  bride.    For  a  breath  or  two,  no  the  child  high  into  his  arms.  "Lis- 

one  moved.     Jeanette  and  Clinton  beth,  may  I  present  Harold  Clinton 

stared  at  each  other.     She  put  her  McBride?" 

hand  up  to  her  heavy  coil  of  gray  "Oh,  the  darling,"  she  murmured 

hair  as  she  read  his  eyes.    Well,  she  under  her  breath.  She  stretched  up 

had     guessed     right— Clinton     had  her  hands  to  touch  his  shoulders, 

changed    also.     The    heartbroken,  "You  precious  darling,"  she  said  in 

rebellious  youth,  who  had  dashed  a  low  voice. 

,away   to   join   the   reserves   or   the  Suddenly  Jeanette  felt  limp,  even 

occupation    forces    somewhere    in  shaky.     She  sat  down   on  a  chair 

Europe,  was  gone.  across  the  room  and  watched. 

"Come  in,  folks,"  said  Jeanette,  Clinton  took  from  his  pocket  a 

trying  to  be  casual.  box   containing   a    tiny   train    that 

ran  by  itself  when  he  wound  it. 
^PHEY  stepped  into  the  room.  "Toot!  Toot!"  he  exclaimed  as  it 
Clinton  was  in  civilian  clothes  sped  over  the  painted  margin 
—she  remembered  that  his  letter  around  the  rug. 
had  said  he  was  going  to  work  for  "Toot!"  echoed  Hal,  scrambling 
the  Government  in  Washington,  after  it.  They  were  all  three  on 
With  the  girl  on  his  arm,  he  came  the  floor,  laughing,  Lisbeth  as  ex- 
forward,  not  diffidently,  but  with  cited  as  the  boys.  Evidently  the 
perceptible  restraint.  fun  made  Hal  think  of  another  play- 

"This  is  Lisbeth,"  he  said  simply,  fellow,  for  he  looked  appealingly  at 

as  though  in  the  presence  of  Gin-  his  father  and  asked,  "Daddy,  can't 



we  take  Rags  to  Washington?" 

Clinton's  laugh  died.  He  shot 
an  inquiring  look  at  Jeanette.  "Is 
Rags  still  alive?" 

"Oh,  yes,  and  well." 

He  rose  from  the  floor,  sat  down 
and  took  Hal  on  his  knee. 

"You  and  Lisbeth  and  I  are  go- 
ing to  live  in  a  big  building,  with 
many  apartments— like  hundreds  of 
little  homes,  you  know." 

"As  big  as  a  hospital,  Daddy?" 

"Much  taller,  son.  But  there 
are  so  many  people  that  there  isn't 
so  very  much  room,  after  all— so 
they  won't  let  anybody  have  a  dog." 

Impressed,  Hal  was  sadly  silent. 
Lisbeth  crossed  to  kneel  at  the  arm 
of  Clinton's  chair. 

"Do  you  like  kitties?"  she  asked, 


"So  do  I.  And  I  think  we  could 
have  a  little  cat.  Some  of  the  chil- 
dren have  them.  You  know  there's 
a  small  park  where  we're  going  to 
live,  with  teeters  and  swings  and 
sandboxes  just  for  the  children  who 
live  there.  You  could  take  the 
kitty  down  with  you  when  you  go 
to  play,  but  you  would  have  to  see 
that  nobody  hurt  it." 

"I  would,"  he  said  stoutly. 

/^LINTON  sprang  up,  his  eyes  on 
his  wrist  watch.  "Our  plane 
leaves  in  less  than  two  hours.  Let's 
all  go  out  and  get  some  supper." 

But  they  never  had  that  meal 
together,  for  Hal  crossed  to  Lisbeth, 
who  had  dropped  into  a  rocker  by 
the  window  and  was  tidying  her 
hair  and  "powdering  up." 

"Do  you  know  where  you  were 
born?"  he  asked  earnestly. 

"Yes,"    she    answered,    surprised 

into  laying  her  small  mirror  on  her 

"People  ought  to  know  where 
they  were  born,"  he  confided  inti- 
mately.    "I  was  born  in  Utah." 

Jeanette's  hand  went  to  her 
throat.  Would  Lisbeth  see  the  im- 
port in  his  lifted  gaze?  The  mo- 
mentous significance? 

"You  weren't  born  in  Utah,"  he 
pronounced,  solemnly. 

"But  I  go  to  a  Utah  Sunday 
School,"  she  countered,  seriously. 
She  bent  forward  and  scooped  him 
into  her  lap.  He  was  too  tired 
after  the  long,  exciting  day  to  re- 
sist, and  his  head  fitted  into  her 
shoulder.  She  began  to  rock  and 
in  a  moment  to  sing  in  a  low  voice, 
as  though  they  two  were  alone. 

Come,  come,  ye  saints,  no  toil  nor  labor 

But  with  joy  wend  your  way; 
Tho  hard  to  you  this  journey  may  appear, 

Grace  shall  be  as  your  day. 
'Tis  better  far  for  us  to  strive 
Our  useless  cares  from  us  to  drive; 
Do  this,  and  joy  your  hearts  will  swell — 

All  is  well!  All  is  well! 

His  eyelids  began  to  flicker  and 
she  hummed  the  melody  softly,  her 
gaze  on  the  far  hills.  His  body- 
relaxed,  his  gleaming  head  slumped 
heavily.  Lisbeth  rose  with  him, 
smiling  triumphantly  at  Clinton, 
who  came  forward  to  kiss  her,  but 
straightened  as  her  eyes  turned  to 

"Would  you  like  to  tuck  him  in, 
Mother?"  she  asked  gently. 

If  ever  there  was  a  time  for  tears, 
Jeanette  thought,  it  is  now!  She 
swallowed  hard  and  paused  before 
she  said  steadily,  "You  can  do  it 
very  well  yourself,  my  dear." 



Lisbeth  laid  Hal  down  and  said 
wryly,  "I'm  tired,  too.  Wish  I  could 
nap  for  half  a  minute/' 

Clinton  grinned  boyishly.  "Go 
ahead.  I'll  wake  you  in  plenty  of 

¥  ISBETH  lay  down  carefully  be- 
side Hal,  smoothing  her  skirt  to 
avoid  wrinkles,  and  soon  her  young 
body  went  limp  too. 

"She  wanted  to  see  America,"  ex- 
plained Clinton,  mildly  apologetic. 
"In  fact,  she  wanted  to  see  the 
whole  world.  But  after  three  weeks 
of  travel,  I  think  all  she  wants  is  a 
four-room  apartment."  Then  he 
added,  thoughtfully,  "They  will  be 
great  pals." 

Jeanette  kept  her  gaze  on  the 
sleeping  boy,  but  she  felt  Clinton's 
eyes  studying  her  profile.  "It  seems 
cruel  to  take  him  away  from  you— 
Mother,"  he  said  hesitantly. 
"Would  you  like  to  keep  him  for 
another  year?" 

Her  heart  leapt  and  her  arms 
yearned.  It  seemed  a  long  time  be- 
fore she  could  trust  her  voice.  "No, 
thank  you,  Clinton.  An  old  farm, 
an  old  dog,  and  an  old  woman! 
There's  no  future  to  such  a  founda- 
tion. The  sooner  the  break,  the 
better  for  him." 

He  coughed  before  he  spoke 
again,  and  his  voice  came  huskily. 

"I  wanted  him  all  the  time  I  was 
in  Europe.  I  think  I  wanted  him 
as  much  because  of  Ginnie  as  for 

There  was  no  answer  to  such  an 
intimate  disclosure,  although  she 
wanted  to  let  him  know  how  deep- 
ly she  understood.  Her  throat 
throbbed,  but  she  could  find  noth- 
ing to  say  that  didn't  seem  in  her 
mind  flat,  trite,  and  unnecessary. 

It  was  at  the  airport  that  Jeanette 
had  her  greatest  trial.  The  man  in 
uniform  had  called,  "All  aboard," 
and  Clinton  had  begun  to  pull  Hal 
toward  the  gate. 

But  the  boy  clung  to  Jeanette's 
knees  and  looked  up  at  her,  ready 
to  cry.  "Let  Grandma  come  too, 
Daddy,"  he  pleaded. 

Clinton  swung  him  up  in  his 

"Listen,  Hally,"  said  Jeanette,  her 
eyes  almost  level  with  his,  "I  have 
to  stay  to  take  care  of  Rags.  Rags 
doesn't  know  anything  but  the 
farm.  Your  grandpa  brought  him 
home,  a  little  puppy,  more  than 
ten  years  ago.  All  he's  ever  known 
for  real  friends  is  grandpa  and  you 
and  me.  Grandpa's  gone  and  you're 
going  on  a  lovely  trip  with  Daddy. 
I  have  to  stay  and  take  care  of 
poor  Rags." 

"Besides,"  cut  in  Lisbeth,  "I 
have  in  my  suitcase  little  bears  and 
deer  and  a  painted  clown.  Every- 
where we  went  we  picked  up  toys. 
And  when  we  reach  the  apartment, 
we'll  unpack,  and  you  may  have 
them  for  your  very  own." 

"And  don't  forget  the  kitty,"  re- 
minded Clinton.  He  pulled  a  face 
and  whined,  "Meow!  Meow!" 

Hal  laughed,  and  they  hurried 
through  the  gate,  across  the  field, 
and  up  the  runway.  At  the  en- 
trance they  turned— young  and 
strong  and  glowing. 

"Goodbye,"  called  Jeanette,  al- 
though she  knew  they  couldn't  hear 
above  the  roar  of  the  motors,  the 
bustle  of  people,  the  goodbye  calls. 
Her  handkerchief  fluttered  in 
the  breeze  and  Hally's  little  arm 
shot  out  to  wave  reply.  He 
called  something,  smiling,  and  tried 



to  look  back  at  her  as  the  steward- 
ess urged  them  inside.  The  plane 
circled  the  field,  once,  twice,  then 
took  to  the  air  and  flew  out  of 
sight.    There  hadn't  been  a  tear! 

When  Jeanette  opened  the  door 
of  her  hotel  room  she  closed 
it  behind  her  and,  leaning  against 
it,  stood  looking  at  the  different 
objects— the  twin  beds,  with  a  dent 
in  one  of  the  pillows  where  the 
brown  and  yellow  heads  had  lain. 
The  two  chairs  where  she  and  Clin- 
ton had  sat  looked  stiffly  uninvit- 
ing. Under  the  rocker  by  the  win- 
dow lay  Lisbeth's  tiny  mirror,  evi- 
dently dropped  from  her  lap  when 
she  rose  with  Hal.  Jeanette  picked 
it  up  and  tucked  it  thoughtfully  in- 
to her  handbag.  Then,  removing  her 
hat,  she  sank  heavily  into  a  chair. 

It  was  strange,  she  thought,  how 
some  of  the  saddest  things  in  life 
were  things  you  wouldn't  change 
if  you  could.  Like  so  many  different 
kinds  of  partings  and  death  for  the 
very  old.  But  not  young  death. 
That  was  a  different  thing. 

She  saw  Hally's  little  face  when 
he  had  asked  if  she  wished  he 
hadn't  been  born.  Well,  she  had 
given  him  up  with  a  smile.  But 
she  was  all  alone  now,  with  train 
time  two  hours  away,  so  she  could 
cry.  A  good,  old-fashioned  wom- 
an's cry— that  would  wash  out  some 
of  the  hurt.  But  she  found  that  the 
tears  didn't  come.  There  was  a 
small  ocean  of  them,  she  knew,  at 
the  bottom  of  her  heart,  but  they 
were  down  very  deep. 

Her  throat  ached  painfully,  but 
she  merely  sat  picturing  her  waiting 
home,  the  wide  porch  where  both 
Ginnie  and  her  baby  had  played, 
the  sandbox  that  Jake  and  another 
"hand"  had  built  for  Hally,  the 
gay  little  pail,  lying  on  its  side  de- 
serted. And  down  the  wooden 
walk  old  Rags  would  come  to  meet 
her.  Rags  would  miss  his  playmate— 
that  thought  brought  an  extra  pang. 
But  her  burning  eyes  remained  as 
dry  as  crumpled  leaves  in  autumn. 
She  just  couldn't  reach  the  tears— 
they  were  down  too  far! 

Blanche  Kendall  Thomas  McKey  is  a  daughter  of  pioneer  merchant 
R.  K.Thomas  and  Carrie  Stockdale  Thomas,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Relief 
Society  general  board.  She  is  a  sister  of  Rose  Thomas  Graham  and  High 
Commissioner  Elbert  D.  Thomas. 

As  a  young  girl,  "Blanche  Kendall"  met  with  success  on  the  professional 
stage,  appearing  several  times  in  New  York  City.  She  married  William 
Richard  McKey,  who  was  starring  as  "Eben  Holden,"  and  who  became  a 
member  of  the  New  York  branch  of  the  Latter-day  Saint  Church.  Mr. 
McKey  died  when  their  children,  Eily  (Mrs.  George  Pierson)  and  Richard 
(of  Washington,  D.  C.)  were  very  young. 

As  a  teacher  of  speech  and  English  (at  Weber  College,  Ricks  College, 
Ogden  High  School)  Blanche  produced  many  plays  and  pageants.  She  is  the 
author  of  "The  Triumph  of  Tomorrow/'  "The  Redemption  of  Johnnie 
Average,"  "Lamps  of  Glory,"  and  other  plays.  Her  poems  have  appeared  in 
local  and  national  publications. 

Mrs.  McKey  is  a  charter  member  of  the  Salt  Lake  City  branch  of  the 
National  League  of  American  Pen  women,  and  last  year  was  chairman  of  drama 
in  the  District  of  Columbia  branch.  She  has  won  many  prizes  in  Utah  and 
Washington  and  has  received  five  national  awards. 

Good  Afternoon,  My  Lady 

Miria  Greenwood  Thayne 

ARE  you  nearing  the  afternoon  at    your    disposal,    listen    to    good 

of  your  life?     If  so,  look  to  music  with  understanding  and  ap- 

the  sun.    It  is  shining  high,  preciation.     As  you  listen,  seek  to 

Your  morning  of  menial  tasks  and  understand  the  fountain  from  which 

perplexities  may  be  over.     If  you  it  flows.    Next  time  you  listen  to 

are  fortunate  enough  to  be  a  moth-  Handel's  greatest  inspiration,  The 

er,   the  morning  of  your  life  has  Messiah,  be  aware  of  the  fact  that 

offered  much  joy,  but  only  limited  he     wrote     the     entire     work     in 

time  that  you  could  call  your  own.  three  weeks,  with  such  a  flood  of 

Afternoon  will  bring  to  you  long  inspiration    that    it    seemed    "the 

coveted  leisure  hours.  gates  of  heaven  were  opened"  to 

What   will   you    do   with    these  him.     Brahm's   Geiman   Requiem 

hours?     Will  you  grasp  each  mo-  was   the  result   of  the  composer's 

ment  and  impregnate  it  with  the  deep  sorrow  over  the  death  of  his 

rich  fertile  material  that  constitutes  mother. 

the  prolific  life,  or  will  you  find  Did  you  ever  feel  an  urge  to  paint 
yourself  lapsing  into  a  middle  age  a  picture?  If  so,  do  not  allow  your- 
neurosis,  a  sterility  of  mind  as  well  self  to  pass  the  afternoon  of  your 
as  of  body?  Afternoon  is  a  time  life  without  the  enriching  experi- 
for  joy,  for  recreation  and  self-cul-  ence  of  handling  a  palette  and  a 
tivation.  Plan  it  and  use  it  as  brush.  You  may  never  paint  a  pic- 
such,  ture  that  you  would  be  proud  to 

Close  the  door  gently  upon  the  display  on  your  wall,  but  ybu  won't 

past.     However,  keep  the  key,  for  know  until  you  have  tried.     The 

there  will  be  times  when  you  will  chief  delight  of  trying  to  paint  is 

want  to  go  back  and  hold  a  reunion  what  is  does  to  your  powers  of  ob- 

with  your  pleasant  memories;  mem-  servation.     When   you    study   the 

ories    of    other    springs,    of   young  landscape  through  the  eyes  of  an 

love  and  the  prattle  of  little  chil-  artist,  you  will  be  astonished  to  see 

dren.  many  things  that  you  have  never 

Lock   securely   and   permanently  noticed  before.    So  many  changing 

away  all  of  your  heartaches,  failures,  colors  as  the  days  and  seasons  roll 

and    disappointments,    for,    if    you  by.     Such    variation    of    sky    and 

have  lived  wisely,  you  have  already  clouds.    A  tree  ceases  to  be  just  a 

profited  by  them,  and  have  no  fur-  tree  and  becomes  an  object  of  in- 

ther  need  of  them.  tricate  imagery,  bearing  lacy  filigree 

"The  world  is  so  full  of  a  number  in  summer's  fulfillment, 

of  things,  I'm  sure  we  should  all  If   you   have   no    disposition    to 

be  as  happy  as  queens,"  or  much,  paint  on  canvas,  why  not  work  with 

much  happier.  the  great  Master  Painter  and  create 

There  is  music— so  much  of  it,  a  living  picture  in  your  own  back 

all  kinds  of  it;  so,  with  more  time  yard?     If  you  have  never  felt  the 

Page  94 


cool,    prolific    earth    ooze    through  ers  for  adventure,  travel,  or  science, 

your  ringers  while  you  plant  seed-  the    library    has    much    to    offer, 

lings  in  the  spring,  you  have  missed  Choose    your    subject,    then    lose 

a  satisfying  experience.    If  you  have  yourself  in  the  magic  of  the  written 

never  watched  the  azalea  and  mag-  word. 

nolia  yield  in  their  glory,  you  have  The  opportunity  to  serve  increas- 

missed  a  closeness  to  the  infinite.  es  as  the  afternoon  lengthens.  With 

I  have  a  friend  who  built  her  more  time  on  your  hands,  you  can 
greenhouse  with  her  own  feminine  pave  your  way  with  action  instead 
hands.  Her  garden  from  early  of  good  intentions.  Now  there  is 
springtime  until  winter's  blanketing  more  time  to  visit  the  sick,  more 
is  a  place  of  beauty.  She  transplants  time  to  write  those  friendly  letters, 
flowers  from  the  mountainside  and  added  hours  to  devote  to  service  for 
glenns,  and  her  garden  is  a  "memory  others.  Give  freely  of  yourself,  for 
grove"  of  friends  who  have  given  the  Master  has  said  ".  .  .  whosoever 
her  cuttings  of  their  own  plantings,  will  be  great  among  you  .  .  .  shall 
This  friend  of  mine  is  a  friend  of  be  servant  of  all." 
many,  because  of  her  gifts  of  flow-  Undoubtedly  there  will  be  some 
ers.  From  her  own  back  yard  she  shadows  as  the  afternoon  extends, 
creates  many  living  pictures.  She  for  it  takes  the  shadows  as  a  compli- 
has  unique  and  original  ways  of  ar-  ment  to  the  light  to  make  an  im- 
ranging  her  flowers,  and  in  her  little  posing  picture.  Did  you  not  learn 
community,  every  wedding,  each  as  you  lived  on  through  the  morn- 
anniversary  and  bereavement,  is  ing,  that,  by  contrast,  the  shadows 
sure  to  be  remembered  by  Mary,  made  the  light  much  brighter,  and 
Many  a  shut-in  has  known  the  frag-  the  most  opaque  darkness  was  il- 
rance  of  springtime,  the  rose  scent  luminated  by  the  sunshine  of  se- 
of  midsummer,  and  the  glory  of  renity?  If  you  have  lived  well  your 
autumn  because  Mary  remembered,  faith  in  the  Lord  has  increased  with 

the  years.     And  that  faith  is  your 

AT  the  age  of  forty-five,  Cynthia  anchor. 

discovered  that  she  had  a  way  Never  allow  yourself  to  think  of 

with  words.  Her  past  experiences,  the  years  of  the  afternoon  of  your 

intermingled    with    a    rare    under-  life  as  declining  years.  To  decline  is 

standing  of  people  and  things,  pre-  to  decay,  to  fail,  to  draw  to  a  close, 

pared  her  loom  for  the  weaving  of  She  who  accepts  all  the  years  as  a 

word  pictures,  and  she  has  found  time  for  mental  and  spiritual  growth 

joy  in  creative  writing.  will  never  know  decline.  Live  while 

It  is  amazing  what  pleasures  one  you  live,  and  make  every  moment 

can  gain  during  a  few  minutes  each  of  your  afternoon  count  for  good, 

day  in  the  public  library.    Its  doors  Then,  as  the  shadows  lengthen  into 

stand  open  and  offer  a  daily  feast  twilight,  you  will  know  the  "peace 

of  any  preferred  variety  of  food  for  that    passeth    understanding/'    the 

the    mind    and    spirit    at    no    cost  peace  that  comes  only  to  those  who 

whatsoever.    For  anyone  who  hung-  have  lived  abundantly  and  well. 

The  House  With  the  Blue  Roof 

Hannah  Smith 

MARIAN  tried  to  keep  her 
voice  down  so  that  Bill's 
mother,  resting  on  the  cot 
in  the  dining  room,  couldn't  hear 
her.  But,  in  spite  of  herself,  her 
tone  climbed,  shrill  and  trembling 
on  the  edge  of  tears.  Bill,  as  in- 
furiatingly  calm  as  always,  leaned 
against  the  sink,  his  brown  eyes 
sympathetic,  but  shaking  his  head 
already  because  he  knew,  of  course, 
what  it  was  she  was  going  to  say. 

"Look!"  Marian  said  in  a  taut, 
querulous  half-whisper,  "just  look 
at  this  room!  There's  nowhere  to 
put  another  thing!  And  the  rest  of 
the  house  is  even  worse.  Oh,  Bill, 
with  just  a  little  more  space  I  could 
stand  it,  but  .  .  .  ." 

She  broke  off,  her  hands  flung 
out  in  a  hopeless,  all-inclusive  ges- 

Bill's  eyes  obediently  took  in  the 
room.  "Yes,  honey,  I  know,"  he 
said  patiently.  His  gaze  traveled 
from  the  five  chairs  crammed 
around  the  tiny  kitchen  table,  to 
the  basket  of  laundry  on  the  baby's 
high  chair,  the  ironing  board 
tucked  awkwardly  between  icebox 
and  sink,  at  the  carton  of  canned 
goods  and  the  basket  of  toys  under 
the  stove.    "I  know  we're  crowded." 

uCiowded?,y  The  word  came  out 
harder,  more  belligerent  than  she 
intended,  but  his  calmness  was  as 
maddening  sometimes  as  their  situ- 
ation. "You  ought  to  be  here  all 
day.  At  least  you  get  out  of  this — 
this  sardine  can." 

"I  know,  honey."  He  said  it  just 
as  he  had  so  many  other  times  since 
Julie  was  born  and  since  Mother 
Atchley   came   to   live   with   them. 

Page  96 

"But  we  just  haven't  the  money  to 
move.  Or  build  on,  either.  You 
know  how  things  are  at  the  garage, 
just  getting  started.  We'll  just  have 
to  wait." 

Marian's  head  was  pounding. 
The  accumulated  irritations  of  the 
morning  suddenly  boiled  up  in  a 
vortex  inside  her.  "Wait,"  she 
said.  "Wait.  Well,  I'm  tired  of 
waiting.  I'm  going  to  do  some- 
thing. I  don't  care  if  we  starve, 
I'm  going  to  get  us  a  little  more 
space.  Maybe  Nettie  Willson  can 
help  me!" 

She  flashed  by  him,  snatched  an 
old  jacket  from  the  hook  by  the 
back  door,  and  ran  down  the  back 
steps.  Bill  called  something  after 
her,  but  she  didn't  stop  to  listen. 
Let  him  stay  there  in  that  little 
house  for  a  while,  she  thought  bit- 
terly; I  don't  even  care  if  he  is 
late  getting  back  to  the  garage  from 
lunch.  I've  just  got  to  find  us  a 
bigger  house. 

Her  hurrying  feet  beat  a  sharp 
accompaniment  to  the  frantic  tur- 
moil of  her  thoughts.  Nettie  Will- 
son's  real  estate  office  was  just 
three  blocks  over;  maybe  Nettie 
could  help  them.  Bill's  trouble  was 
that  he  accepted  everything,  took 
it  for  granted  that  he  was  the  only 
one  in  his  family  who  could  take 
care  of  his  mother.  Accepted  the 
hard  end  of  everything  at  the  garage 
where  he  was  in  partnership  with 
George  Hanning.  She  used  to 
think  she  was  pretty  calm,  too, 
back  in  the  days  when  they  were 
first  married,  when  they  first  moved 
into  their  little  house. 



'PEARS  stung  behind  her  eyelids 
as  she  remembered  suddenly 
those  days.  The  house  had  looked 
so  attractive  then.  No  play  pen 
crowding  the  center  of  the  living 
room.  No  improvised  bed  for 
Mother  Atchley  in  the  dining  room. 
Not  that  she  really  minded  her 
mother-in-law's  presence,  really. 
Even  though  she  was  too  frail  and 
ill  to  be  left  alone,  she  was  really 
surprisingly  easy  to  get  along  with, 
Marian  told  herself,  with  reluctant 
honesty;  Bill  had  got  his  disposi- 
tion from  his  mother,  she  thought, 
with  a  small,  wry  grin.  It  would  be 
nice  having  her  with  them,  if  she 
only  had  a  room  to  herself— a  room 
where  she  could  put  all  the  yellowed 
family  pictures  that  now  crowded 
the  buffet.  .  .  a  place  for  her  clothes 
that  now  shared  the  hall  closet  with 
the  baby's  stroller,  the  winter  coats, 
the  umbrellas. 

Marian's  fists  were  knots  of  ten- 
sion in  her  jacket  pockets.  She  rea- 
lized with  a  start  that  she  was  al- 
ready in  front  of  Nettie's  office, 
that  she  had  been  walking  faster 
and  faster,  keeping  pace  with  the 
mounting  fury  and  frustration  in- 
side her. 

She  put  her  hand  on  the  door- 
knob of  the  little  office,  seeing 
Nettie's  gray  head  bent  over  her 
desk.  But  just  as  she  started  to 
enter  her  attention  was  caught  by 
a  large  sign  pasted  on  the  plate- 
glass  window  beside  her,  lettered  in 
Nettie's  rather  staggering  scrawl: 

Need  More  Space? 

Three  Bedrooms  and  Den.     Bath  and  a 

Half.    Large  Yard.    Trees.    Flowers. 


iyf  ARIAN  stood  staring  up  at  the 
sign.  That's  not  a  house;  that's 

heaven,  she  thought.  A  bedroom 
for  Bill  and  me.  A  room  for  the 
children.  A  room  for  Mother  Atch- 
ley. And  a  den  ...  a  place  for  the 
sewing  machine,  the  play  pen,  the 
account  books  from  the  garage  .... 

All  at  once  her  hand  tightened 
on  the  doorknob.  We're  going  to 
live  there,  she  told  herself  grimly. 
Somehow.  Reasonable,  the  sign 
said.  They  had  an  equity  in  their 
own  house.  Something  could  be 
worked  out.  It  had  to  be.  Nettie 
knew  them;  she'd  help  them  fix  it 
some  way  .... 

"What  a  black  scowl!  You  almost 
scared  me!" 

Marian  laughed,  startled,  when 
the  little  plump  woman  behind  the 
flat-topped  desk  in  front  of  her 
spoke.  She'd  been  so  engrossed 
with  her  determination  she  had 
even  forgotten  to  say  "Hello." 

"Sorry,"  she  said.  "I  was  think- 
ing about  that  ad  out  there." 

Nettie  pushed  a  chair  toward 
Marian  with  the  tip  of  her  stout 
black  Oxford  and  stuck  her  yellow 
pencil  into  her  gray  hair,  from  which 
two  other  pencils  already  protrud- 
ed. "Oh,  that,"  she  said.  "Nice 
place.  Over  on  Underhill  Road. 
Quite  a  few  people  been  looking  at 
that.  .  .  .  How  are  the  children?" 

"Fine,"  Marian  said  absently. 
She  hitched  her  chair  closer  to  the 
desk  and  put  her  arm  on  its  sur- 
face; she  bent  toward  Nettie  eager- 
ly. "Nettie,"  she  said,  "could  we 
buy  it?  We've  got  to.  Could  you 
work  us  out  a  deal  some  way? 
We've  got  about  three  thousand 
equity  in  our  place,  and  .  .  .  ." 

Nettie's  eyes,  behind  their 
gold-rimmed  glasses,  looked  un- 
happy,   as    she    slowly    shook    her 



head.  "Oh,  honey,"  she  said,  "I'm 
awfully  sorry,  but  that's  .  .  .  well, 
it's  way  beyond  you  kids  yet.  They 
want  nineteen  thousand  for  that 
house.  You'd  have  to  have  at  least 
eight  thousand  down  payment.  And 
the  monthly  payments 

Marian's  cheeks  flamed.  "I  don't 
care,"  she  said  recklessly.  "Maybe 
Bill  could  borrow  on  the  garage. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  Nettie  said. 
"Wait  a  minute,  dear."  She  put 
her  plump  hand  on  Marian's  wrist. 
"My,  you're  going  like  a  race  horse. 
Settle  back.  I'll  bet  you've  done 
a  washing  and  cleaned  your  house 
and  bathed  the  baby  already  this 

"And  baked  a  pie,"  Marian  ad- 
ded bitterly.  "I  don't  mind  the 
work,  Nettie,  but  I'm  not  going  on 
one  day  longer,  not  one  day,  in  that 
little  crackerbox.  I  just  can't  stand 
it " 

To  her  intense  mortification,  a 
tear  splashed  wetly  on  the  back  of 
Nettie's  hand.  She  jerked  back- 
wards '  and  turned  her  face  away. 
"I'm  sorry,"  she  said  in  a  muffled 
voice.  "I  guess  I  am  in  a  state, 
but " 

"Listen,  child,"  Nettie  said, 
"You've  got  an  awfully  good,  hard- 
working husband.  He  and  George 
are  going  to  make  that  garage  pay. 
I've  been  watching  them,  and  their 
business  is  getting  better  all  the 
time.  I  know  he  had  to  buy  all 
that  expensive  equipment— that 
new  grease  rack  and  the  tow  truck. 
He's  bound  to  have  a  couple  or 
three  more  years  hard  sledding. 
You  put  a  big  house  on  his  back 
right  now  and  he's  apt  not  to  make 

Marian  said  nothing,  but  her 
thoughts  were  a  bitter  answer. 
Sometimes  I  almost  wish  he  were 
working  for  somebody  else.  He'd 
make  better  money  now.  Now's 
when  we  need  the  money.  Not 
five  years,  ten  years,  from  now  .... 

Almost  as  if  she  had  heard  her, 
Nettie  went  on.  "Nobody  sympa- 
thizes with  you  more  than  I  do. 
Maybe  you  don't  know  it,  but  when 
my  children  were  little  I  went 
through  the  same  thing." 

Marian  raised  her  wet  eyes  to 
Nettie's  face  in  surprise.  "Didn't 
know  I  had  any  children,  I'll  bet!" 
Nettie's  laugh  was,  suddenly,  a  lit- 
tle forlorn.  "I  guess  I  don't  talk 
about  them  much  because  .  .  .  ." 
She  stopped  just  for  an  instant,  then 
went  on  in  a  quick,  bright  voice, 
"Because  they're  both  gone  now. 
They  died  not  many  years  after, 
after  Ned  did." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  .  .  .  ." 

l^ETTIE  went  on,  as  if  she  didn't 
want  to  say  another  word  on 
that  subject;  her  voice  seemed  a 
little  high  and  hurried.  "I  think 
back  to  then  and  remember  just 
how  I  felt  before  I  found  the  house 
with  the  blue  roof.  And  that's  the 
one  I  want  to  tell  you  about." 

All  at  once  Marian's  drooping 
shoulders  straightened.  She  looked 
at  Nettie  with  brightening  hope. 
"Here?    In  Kirkville?" 

Nettie  nodded.  "Now,  wait- 
wait,"  she  said,  her  tone  caution- 
ing. "Perhaps  you  won't  like 

"I'd  like  anything,  anything!" 
Marian  said  eagerly.  "Tell  me 
about  it!" 

Nettie's  eyes  were  absent  with 
memory.     "I  found  the  house  one 



morning  after  I  burned  my  arm  on 
the  wall  heater.  I  was  trying  to 
dry  diapers  in  the  living  room  and 
the  rack  broke,  and  when  I  tried 
to  prop  it  up,  I  burned  my  arm, 
from  elbow  to  wrist.  I  did  just 
what  you  did.  ...  I  grabbed  a  coat 
and  ran.  Only,  instead  of  coming 
here,  I  went  up  the  path  behind 
the  park,  over  toward  the  foothills. 
Know  where  that  is?" 

Marian  was  only  half  listening. 
She  nodded  eagerly,  waiting  for  the 
older  woman  to  finish  the  prelim- 
inaries, to  tell  her  about  the 
house  .  .  .  the  house  with  the  blue 
roof,  that  might  be  .  .  .  could  be 

"I  went  up  that  path  and  there 
was  a  little  clearing  up  there  on  top 
of  the  hill.  I  could  see  the  roof 
of  my  house  down  below;  it  was 
easy  to  pick  out  because  it  had  a 
big  tin  patch  on  it.  Ned  was  never 
any  good  at  fixing  anything  up, 
much.  .  .  ." 

Marian  tried  to  swallow  her  im- 
patience. "Could  you  see  the  oth- 
er house  from  there,  the  one  with 
the  blue  .  .  .?" 

"Wait,"  Nettie  said,  almost 
sternly.  "And  listen.  I'm  coming 
to  it.  No,  I  couldn't  see  anything 
but  that  patch.  And  feel  the  burn 
on  my  arm.  I  was  mad  and  tired 
and  discouraged.  I  stood  up  there 
and  I  said,  right  out  loud,  'I  have 
to  have  a  bigger  house'/  Bossy, 
just  like  that.  It  wasn't  a  prayer; 
it  was  an  order.  But,  do  you 
know  .  .  .?" 

She  glanced  down  at  the  blotter 
on  her  desk,  and  Marian  saw  that 
her  face  held  a  look  of  wonder  as 
she  remembered.  "Do  you  know, 
God  gave   me  a  big  house,   that 

morning.     A   house    with    a    blue 

"Oh,  now,  look  here  ..-.."  Mar- 
ian stirred  a  little  uncomfortably 
in  her  chair.  "I  don't  think  I  .  .  .  ." 

1UETTIE  raised  her  eyes  to  Mar- 
ian's and  there  was  something 
compelling  in  her  glance.  "I  want 
you  to  listen  to  me,  Marian.  It's 
more  important  than  anything  that 
happened  to  me  in  my  life.  God 
spoke  to  me  that  morning.  He 
showed  me  that,  right  then,  I  was 
standing  in  a  great  house  with  a 
roof  of  blue  sky  above  it.  I  could 
step  out  into  it  any  time  I  wanted 
and  see  that  his  house  was  as  big  as 
the  universe  and  as  quiet  and  serene 
as  I  dreamed  of  being.  But  I'd 
brought  my  flurry  and  confusion 
and  irritations  along  with  me;  they 
weren't  part  of  my  house  down  be- 
low there— they  were  part  of  me.  I 
knew  I  had  to  be  serene  myself, 
that  no  house  was  going  to  .  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  stop!"  Marian  was  standing 
up,  looking  down  at  Nettie,  her 
eyes  hard  with  disappointment. 
"Do  you  mean  you've  been  sitting 
here  preaching  at  me?  Making  me 
think  all  along  you  were  going  to 
tell  me  about  a  place  I  could  move 
to,  a  place  we  can  afford— now? 
There  really  isn't  a  house  at  all! 
None!    Oh,  how  could  you?" 

She  gave  Nettie  one  flaming,  re- 
sentful glance  and  flung  herself  out 
of  the  office.  Automatically  her  feet 
took  her  toward  home,  but  at  the 
corner  she  stopped.  I  just  can't 
go  back,  she  thought.    I  won't. 

"Marian!     Hey,  Marian!"  It  was 

a  familiar  voice,  and  a  cross  one. 

Marian  turned,  startled.     Halfway 

up  the  side  street,  under  the  swing- 

(Continued  on  page  141) 

Sixty    Ljears  J^tgo 

Excerpts  from  the  Woman's  Exponent,  February  1,  and  February  15,  1892 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

LETTER  OF  GREETING:  It  will  be  fifty  years  on  Thursday,  March  17,  1892, 
since  Joseph  Smith  the  Prophet  organized  the  Relief  Society  in  Nauvoo,  Illinois,  by 
Divine  inspiration.  Sister  Emma  Smith  was  elected  President,  and  Sister  Elizabeth 
Ann  Whitney  and  Sister  Sarah  M.  Cleveland,  Counselors,  Sister  Eliza  R.  Snow  was  ap- 
pointed Secretary.  .  .  . 

This  momentous  event  for  woman  causes  us  to  view  with  wonder  the  past,  with 
gratitude  the  present  and  with  faith  the  future.  .  .  .  Thousands  have  been  comforted, 
encouraged,  fed  with  the  bread  of  life  and  ministered  unto  by  the  sisters  of  Relief 
Society  .  .  .  that  has  taught  its  members  to  search  out  not  only  the  needy  and  dis- 
tressed bodily,  but  the  sorrowing,  the  erring,  the  doubting,  and  the  tempted  ones 
who  need  the  uplifting  hand  of  kindness  and  of  tender  solicitude.  .  .  .  These  are  some 
of  the  simple  first  lessons  to  be  learned  by  the  sisters  who  have  united  themselves  to- 
gether to  go  on  to  perfection. — Editorial 

If  we  could  push  aside  the  gates  of  life, 

And  stand  within  and  all  God's  working  see, 
We  could  interpret  all  this  doubt  and  strife, 

And  for  each  mystery  could  find  a  key. 
And  if  through  patient  toil  we  reach   the  land 

Where  tired  feet  with  sandals  loosed  may  rest, 
Where  we  shall  truly  know  and  understand, 

I  think  that  we  will  say,  "God  knew  the  best." 

— Selected 

INTERESTING  VISIT  IN  MILLARD  STAKE:  On  October  the  29th,  Scipio 
received  a  very  pleasant  surprise,  Apostle  F.  D.  and  Sister  Jane  S.  Richards  arriving  on 
that  evening  on  a  visit  to  our  settlements,  and  putting  up  at  the  residence  of  their 
niece,  Sister  Emily  L.  Thompson.  In  the  evening  we  called  upon  them  and  invited 
Sister  Richards  to  visit  all  the  branches  of  the  Relief  Society  in  this  stake  but  telling 
her  that  there  was  a  considerable  distance  between  some  of  the  settlements,  but  if 
it  was  not  asking  too  much  of  her,  we  would  be  very  pleased  to  have  her  accompany 
us  on  a  visit  to  them  all.  Sister  Richards  very  willingly  accepted  our  invitation  and 
Brother  Richards  kindly  going  with  us.  .  .  . — Elizabeth  F.  Yates,  Pres.  of  Relief  Society, 
Millard  Stake 

REST  A  LITTLE:  Good  mother,  maker  of  numerous  pies,  mender  of  numerous 
hose,  overseer  of  a  great  province — a  household,  rest  a  little  ....  While  mending  have 
your  chair  in  the  coziest  corner  where  good  light  will  come  in  and  let  the  sun  strike 
upon  you  if  possible,  so  that  you  may  get  the  strengthening,  health-giving  influence 
of  it.  .  .  Let  your  eyes  wander  out  through  the  window  glass  as  far  as  possible,  and 
rest  your  eyes  by  looking  at  something  interesting  out  of  doors.  Don't  rule  all  the 
time.  Drop  the  reins  of  household  government  for  a  little  while,  unbend  yourself 
and  sit  down  on  the  rug  and  play  with  the  children,  and  as  it  were  become  again 
a  child. .  .  .  — Living  Issues 

Page  100 

Woman's    Sphere 

VOIING  women,  as  well  as  young 
men,  are  being  urged  to  enroll 
in  engineering  courses  in  the  United 
States.  There  is  a  shortage  of  per- 
sonnel in  this  profession,  especially 
of  research  workers. 

TN  Kansas  towns  last  July,  acci- 
dents, shock,  and  disease  fol- 
lowed in  the  wake  of  the  terrible 
floods.  Kansas  nurses— industrial, 
private-duty,  public-school,  Tuber- 
culosis Association,  and  physicians' 
office  nurses— volunteered  many 
thousands  of  hours  of  work  in 
alleviating  the  conditions. 

CPEAKING  of  nurses,  in  the  Salt 
Lake  Area  Vocational  School, 
four  grandmothers  are  enthusiastical- 
ly studying  to  become  licensed  prac- 
tical nurses.  They  are  Allie  Dunn, 
fifty-one;  Eva  B.  Nolasco,  fifty-one; 
Lillian  Fife,  fifty- three;  and  Evelyn 
V.  Hurd,  sixty.  They  are  all  mak- 
ing excellent  records. 

CINCE  1939,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wal- 
lace E.  Johnson  of  Memphis, 
Tennessee,  have  built  thousands  of 
low-rent  housing  units  in  Memphis, 
and  other  towns  in  Tennessee,  in 
Arkansas,  and  Mississippi.  Mrs. 
Johnson  is  secretary  of  forty-nine 
corporations,  including  a  sawmill, 
hardware  store,  rental  agencies,  a 
plumbing  company,  and  all  branch- 
es of  their  housing  enterprises. 

Rarnona  W.  Cannon 

TWO  contributors  to  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  are  again  win- 
ners in  the  Deseiet  News  Prize 
Christmas  Story  and  Poem  con- 
tests. Margery  S.  Stewart  is  author 
of  the  story,  'The  Travelers,"  and 
Caroline  Eyring  Miner  composed 
the  poem,  "No  Room."  Both  are 
offerings  of  genuine  literary  and 
spiritual  worth. 

HPHE  Young  Presidents,  a  national 
organization,  includes  presi- 
dents of  large  business  enterprises 
only,  who  attain  their  positions  be- 
fore reaching  the  age  of  thirty-nine. 
The  first  woman  has  recently  quali- 
fied for  membership.  She  is  Elsie 
Frankfurt,  head  of  Page  Boy  Ma- 
ternity Company  (clothing  manu- 
facturers) of  Dallas,  Texas. 

TN    the    last    elections    in    Heidel- 
berg,    Germany,     five     women 
won  places  on  the  city  council. 

THE  new  editor  of  the  national 
Journal  oi  Home  Economics  is 
Mrs.  Mary  Hawkins,  a  linguist, 
writer,  and  trained  home  economist. 
During  and  after  World  War  II 
she  lived  with  her  correspondent 
husband  in  seven  countries,  part  of 
that  time  working  in  Switzerland 
for  the  American  Office  of  War  In- 
formation. After  the  war  she 
worked  for  the  rehabilitation  of 
German  youth. 

Page  101 

VOL.  39 


NO.  2 

I  Lot  Kjifter  the    1 1  tanner  of  the   VUorld 

OERHAPS  never  in  the  history  of 
the  world  has  there  been  a 
greater  need  for  members  of  the 
Lord's  Church  to  heed  his  words, 
'Tor  I  give  not  unto  you  that  ye 
shall  live  after  the  manner  of  the 
world"  (D.  &  C.  96:13).  Sin  and 
corruption  rage  in  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  if  Latter-day  Saints  are  to  keep 
themselves  unspotted  from  the 
world  and  live  not  after  the  manner 
of  the  world,  there  is  a  need  of  con- 
stant vigilance  and  righteousness. 

To  live  by  every  word  that  pro- 
ceedeth  forth  from  the  mouth  of 
God  is  a  requisite.  Before  the 
Church  had  been  organized  six 
months,  the  Lord  declared: 

Not  at  any  time  have  I  given  unto 
you  a  law  which  was  temporal;  neither 
any  man,  nor  the  children  of  men;  neith- 
er Adam,  your  father,  whom  I  created. 
Behold,  I  gave  unto  him  that  he  should 
be  an  agent  unto  himself;  and  I  gave 
un^o  him  commandment,  but  no  tem- 
poral commandment  gave  I  unto  him  for 
my  commandments  are  spiritual  (D.  &  C. 


If  one  is  not  to  live  after  the 
manner  of  the  world,  one  needs  to 
study  the  words  of  the  Lord  and  to 
have  a  knowledge  of  his  command- 
ments and  walk  by  their  light.  The 
first  great  commandment  to  love  the 
Lord"  with  all  one's  heart,  soul,  and 
mind,  leads  a  Latter-day  Saint  to 
have  a  deep  knowledge  and  an  abid- 
ing awareness  of  the  love  of  the 
Father  for  his  children,  the  greatest 
love  in  the  world,  which  led  him  to 

Page  102 

give  his  beloved  Son  to  atone  for 
the  sins  of  man. 

This  understanding  of  the  Fa- 
ther's love  invites  his  children  to 
approach  him  in  prayer  at  all  times 
in  a  spirit  of  thankfulness  and  a 
spirit  of  petition.  A  Latter-day 
Saint  family  living  not  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  world  unitedly  kneels  in 
prayer  daily.  As  individuals,  they 
seek  to  know  the  Lord's  will  and  to 
obtain  the  strength  to  live  in  ac- 
cordance with  it.  In  the  home,  in 
the  busy  mart,  on  the  battlefield, 
at  one's  work,  in  a  hospital,  in  the 
midst  of  a  crowd  or  in  solitude,  a 
Latter-day  Saint  knows  the  Father 
can  hear  the  cry  for  help,  or  the  out- 
pouring of  gratitude  of  the  heart. 
A  saint  lives  by  the  promise  of  the 
Savior,  "Ask  and  it  shall  be  given 
you;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you" 
(Matt.  7:7) .  The  heavens  are  open 
to  the  seeker,  revelations  of  the 
will  of  God  have  not  ceased  as  the 
manner  of  the  world  would  have  it. 
The  widow  may  trust  in  the  Lord 
and  the  fatherless  find  a  father  in 

To  forsake  the  ways  of  the  world 
requires  a  daily  discipline  of  the 
flesh,  a  subduing  of  carnal  desires, 
a  reaching  up  to  the  things  of  the 
spirit.'  The  observance  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  fasting,  of  the  Word  of 
Wisdom,  of  the  law  of  tithing,  are 
among  the  commandments  which 
help  one  to  overcome  worldly  de- 
sires and  habits  of  living. 


Not  to  live  after  the  manner  of  must  be  taken  step  by  step  with 
the  world  requires  obedience  to  the  always  a  new  obstacle  to  overcome 
second  great  commandment  which  when  one  obstacle  is  left  behind, 
is  like  unto  the  first— to  love  one's  At  every  stage  of  the  journey  there 
neighbor  as  oneself,  to  learn  to  love  are  enticing  avenues  leading  off  to 
one's  enemies,  and  to  do  good  to  the  ways  of  the  world.  Some  broad 
them  that  despitefully  use  one.  paths  may  appear  very  desirable 
Such  conduct  sets  an  individual  and,  if  the  spirit  is  lost,  deceive 
apart  from  the  world  today,  in  some  into  thinking  they  parallel 
which  hate  and  greed  actuate  the  closely  the  narrow  way,  but  if  such 
conduct  of  nations  themselves.  The  paths  are  persistently  followed,  too 
Latter-day  Saint,  the  thirteenth  late  they  are  found  to  diverge  wide- 
article  of  faith  promises,  is  honest,  ly  and  to  lead  one  downward  to 
true,  chaste,  benevolent,  virtuous,  misery  and  destruction, 
and  does  good  to  all  men;  and.  if  Never  can  one  be  at  ease  in  Zion. 
there  is  anything  virtuous,  lovely,  Pride  in  one's  own  righteousness  is 
or  of  good  report,  he  seeks  after  the  pride  of  the  Pharisee.  What 
those  things.  A  friendly  interest,  the  Lord  requires  is  a  broken  heart 
solicitude  and  helpfulness  to  one's  and  a  contrite  spirit.  The  hope  of 
neighbor  extended  in  an  understand-  curing  the  evils  of  the  world  lies  in 
ing  manner,  mark  the  true  Latter-  individual  repentance  and  humility, 
day  Saint.                                           ■  Before  it  be  too  late  may  all  Latter- 

Not  living  after  the  manner  of  the  day    Saints    and    good    men    every- 

world  requires  walking  in  the  nar-  where,  living  in  the  manner  of  the 

row  way  which  leads  to  the  strait  world,  forsake  that  manner  of  liv- 

gate.    There  are  no  short  cuts  nor  ing  and  walk  in  the  narrow  path  to 

is  there  an  easy  means  of  access  to  eternal  life, 

the  kingdom  of  God.  Life's  journey  — M.  C.  S. 

Lsoagratuiattofis  to  [President  ijLmy    \Jorovcn  jLyman 

On  Her  Birthday— February  7th 

A  GAIN  in  this  month  of  February,  Relief  Society  women  throughout 
the  stakes  and  wards  and  the  missions  of  the  Church  remember  the 
birthday  of  former  President  Amy  Brown  Lyman,  and  we  extend  to  her 
our  love  and  our  congratulations.  Sister  Lyman  has  served  Relief  Society 
devotedly  for  many  years.  Her  work  of  leadership  among  the  sisters  as 
a  member  of  the  general  board  began  in  1909.  In  January  1940,  Sister 
Lyman  was  chosen  by  President  Heber  J.  Grant  to  be  the  general  president 
of  Relief  Society.  Her  service  in  this  office  extended  through  the  critical 
time  of  the  second  World  War,  until  April  1945,  and  her  courage  and 
strength  of  leadership  comforted  the  sisters  and  inspired  them  to  give  their 
utmost  devotion  to  Relief  Society,  and  to  the  gospel.  It  is  with  gratitude 
in  our  hearts  that  the  members  of  Relief  Society  extend  to  Sister  Lyman 
our  heartfelt  wishes  for  her  health  and  happiness. 

cJ-    1 1 lade    /fly   Qysvn  QJamilti  uleirlooms 

M.  Garrett  Enos 

T  had  many  ancestors,  but  I  have 
never  inherited  any  of  those 
beautiful  china  plates  various  friends 
so  proudly  display  on  their  walls,  on 
their  tier  tables,  or  in  cabinets. 

Imade  visits  to  antique  shops  in 
an  effort  to  acquire  plates,  but  each 
time  price  quotations  sent  me  dash- 
ing for  home,  clutching  my  purse. 

Milk  glass  held  a  special  appeal 
for  me,  and  one  day  I  purchased  at 
a  department  store  three  modern 
milk  glass  plates  for  one  dollar  each. 
When  I  reached  home  I  searched 
through  the  photograph  album  un- 
til I  located  profile  pictures  of  my 
husband,  our  son,  and  myself.  I 
cut  out  the  head  of  each  one,  dupli- 
cated them  on  heavy  black  con- 
struction paper,  and  mounted  one 
of  the  resulting  silhouettes  in  the 
center  of  each  plate.  I  hung  them 
in  a  series  on  the  living  room  wall. 

I  received  so  many  compliments 
I  began  working  on  the  idea  in 
various  ways.  I  tried  photo  sil- 
houettes in  oils  for  a  friend.  Since 
I  have  no  talent  for  sketching,  I 
asked  her  to  have  some  close-up 
profile  shots  made  at  a  develop-on 
the-spot  photographic  shop  for 
twenty-five  cents  each.  The  pictures 
turned  out  fine  for  obtaining  a  true 
silhouette  model  for  transfer  to  the 
plate.  A  local  hobby  shop  kiln 
dried  the  plate,  after  painting,  for 
twenty  cents. 

Next,  I  tried  silhouette  scenes  in 
oil.  The  choice  is  almost  unlim- 
ited, although  I  found  still  life  and 
hunting  scenes  especially  good. 

Son  Jon,  age  nine,  wanted  some 
plates  for  his  room,  so  I  tried  my 

P<*ge  104 

hand  at  juvenile  designs.  I  bought 
the  largest  plain  plates  I  could  find 
at  the  five  and  ten  and  borrowed 
my  designs  from  his  color  books. 
Porky  Pig,  Bambi,  and  Bugs  Bunny, 
each  came  to  life  in  the  center  of  a 
plate.  I  found  these  more  attractive 
done  in  natural  color  than  in  sil- 

My  present  experiment  with 
plates  is  the  use  of  copper  foil  com- 
bined with  paint.  I  trace  a  sailboat 
on  copper,  work  out  the  details,  and 
mount  the  boat  on  a  plate  with 
heavy  glue.  The  water  and  se^  gulls 
are  worked  out  with  paint. 

So,  in  spite  of  my  ancestors,  I 
now  own  some  future  heirloom 
pieces  and  have  found  a  pleasant 
and  profitable  hobby  besides. 

Engaged  girls  are  happy  recipients 
of  the  silhouette  scenes  on  milk 
glass,  and  these  plates  are  welcome 
gifts  on  almost  any  occasion.  The 
juvenile  plates  for  nursery  decora- 
tions can  be  passed  on  down  from 
mother  to  daughter  along  with  the 
baby  spoon. 

"To  Thine  Own  Self 

Kay  Ishub 

SANDRA  tugged  at  the  lock  of 
the  old  trunk,  but  it  held 
fast.  In  a  way  she  was  glad. 
It  was  too  soon  to  look  at  mother's 
things.  Better  to  wait  till  some- 
time when  she  could  think  of  Mom 
without  a  heavy  something  in  her 
throat,  an  actual  hurt  somewhere 
inside  of  her.  She  dropped  down 
beside  the  trunk  and  let  her  head 
fall  against  the  heavy,  old-fashioned 

"Oh,  Mom,  I  need  you  now!" 
How  blessed  it  would  be  to  talk 
to  Mom  again.  Tell  her  what  hap- 
pened last  night  after  the  gradua- 
tion dance.  Tell  her  about  Brick. 
"I  tried  to  do  what  you'd  have 
wanted  me  to  ...  it  hasn't  worked 
out,  Mom." 

Sandra  closed  her  eyes  against 
the  tears  and  tried  to  feel  the 
warmth  and  comfort  of  her  Moth- 
er. Of  all  the  things  she  remem- 
bered about  Mom  it  was  easiest  to 
remember  her  laugh.  Sort  of  a  low 
chuckle,  but  mostly  it  was  her 
eyes.  They  were  blue,  and  when 
she  laughed  they  shone  and  twink- 
led with  amusement.  It  was  con- 
tagious. You  couldn't  look  at 
Mom's  eyes  and  not  laugh  with 
her.  She  would  have  loved  the 
school  play.  Sandra  let  her  mind 
drift  back. 

The  school  play  had  been  the 
beginning.  How  else  could  she 
have  ever  known  Brick  Howard? 
Oh,  she  had  known  who  he  was  all 
right  ...  as  who  didn't?  President 
of  the  student  body,  most  spec- 
tacular player  on  the  football 
squad,    chairman    of    the    student 

planning  board.  He  was  every- 
where, in  everything,  and  whenever 
you  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  red 
head  there  was  a  group  of  boys  and 
girls,  drawn  to  him  because  he  was 
special.  Special  in  a  way  hard  to 
define  .  .  .  but  special. 

To  Sandra  he  had  been  only  a 
remote  figure  to  admire  and  specu- 
late about.  She  did  not  have  dates 
with  boys,  and  her  only  knowledge 
of  them  had  been  through  games 
played  in  her  neighborhood  on 
warm  summer  evenings— run-sheep- 
run,  follow-the-arrow.  Or  racing 
across  Miller's  pond  on  ice  skates 
with  a  lot  of  boys  and  girls.  Life 
had  always  been  full  and  busy. 
There  were  Mutual  and  Sunday 
School  and  Seminary,  with  all  their 
attendant  activities,  swimming  les- 
sons, piano  lessons,  books  to  read, 
so  many  things  to  do.  Nearly 
always  in  a  group  of  boys  and  girls. 

It  had  begun  to  matter  when  she 
was  a  sophomore,  and  only  then  be- 
cause so  many  of  her  girl  friends 
started  dating.  All  her  sophomore 
year  she  felt  vaguely  disturbed 
about  it.  Till  now  boys  had  been 
someone  to  play  games  with,  com- 
pete with,  talk  with.  Suddenly, 
they  became  strange  creatures  who 
were  too  shy  even  to  talk  to  her, 
or  else  they  parried  words  with  an 
expertness  that  left  her  feeling 
stupid.  There  was  a  whole  new 
vocabulary  of  words  they  used,  and 
she  became  haunted  with  the  awful 
fear  that  she  might  be  what  they 
called  a  "houseplant"— a  girl  who 
never  dated. 

In  her  junior  year  it  was  a  nagging 

Page  105 


worry    that    forced    her    into    un-  and,  finally,  at  midterm  she  signed 

accustomed  shyness,  and  at  the  be-  up  for  drama  class.     It  had  been, 

ginning  of  her  senior  year  it  sud-  surprisingly  enough,  the  best  of  all 

denly  loomed  as  her  number  one  ner  classes. 

problem     It  became  hard  to  even  It  was  after  christmas  ^t  the 

talk  to  Mom  about  it.     Could  it  doctQr           Mom   tQ  bed      After 

be  her  looks?    No    she  knew  she  school  gj^  would  dt  Qn  &(.  ed 

was  not  a  raving  beauty,  but  she  of  her  bed  and  ^  her  a„  abo*t 

kept  her  blond  hair  shining  clean  ^  j.   actiyities  at  school  Tbae 

and  everyone  said  her  eyes  were  was  nQ  th      ht  ^  ^  Mom 

like  Moms    What  was  wrong  with  wouW  never  fet  out  of  bed.    The 

her?    Why  did  she  blush  and  stem-  doctQr  said    <?when  she  [s  g  ^ 

mer  when  a  boy  so  much  as  spoke  Sfronaer  " 

to  her  and   then,   when   she  was  _,      '       . .  ,  ..    .         .        .      . 

alone,  think  of  all  the  clever  things  ,  Mom  would  talk  about  the  school 

she  could  have  said?    By  this  time  PJ3?  and  urSe  Sandra.  t°  ^  outJ 

all  her  friends  were  dating.    What  *  know  7°"  f n  do  *  Sanfy- 

was  wrong  with  her?  had  »  m"ch  / un  jn  Plays  ^n  I 

went  to  school,  and  they  can't  have 

OM   was   the  real   reason   she  *anSedt  so  m"ch/    £*  &".*"* 

.  •  j         r      .i        i      i    i  chance  to  meet  nice  boys  and  really 
tried  out  for  the  school  play.         .    .     ,  .,  /.,  J 

i.  .,     ,     .     .        £i  .r/  get  to  know  them  while  you  are 

At  the  beginning  or  her  senior  year  b     ,  .  .,       ,         T     J . 


ill     tllV      L/V/£1111111I1£1     KJL     11^1     JV/111U1      VU11  1     •  il  1  T  i 

u        v  j      i    j    «c     j       j  working  on  the  play.     I  met  your 

Mom  had  asked,     Sandra,  do  you  £.ibi  r/.  ,   J  . 

,  i       .,     '  .   '       t/  father  when  we  were  in  a  play  to- 

know  when  they  are  going  to  have        .,      „  r   J 

the  school  play  this  year?' 


"I  think  it's  the  last  of  April,  "Ph>  Mom,  }  want  to  but    .     " 

Mom   whv?"  Then  Mom  had  surprised  her  by 

"Why  don't  you  try  out  for  it?"  sayinS>  with  an  intensity  unusual 

She     had     moaned,      "Oh,      I  for  her>  "Sandra,  promise  me  that 

couldn't.    I'd  be  scared  to  death."  you  Wl11  try  out  for  the  sc*001  Play- 

"Now,  why  should  you  be  fright-  You  may  not  win  aPart>  but  Pr0™; 
ened?  I  think  you  have  a  lot  of  ise  me  that  you  Wl11  do  your  best! 
talent.  From  the  time  you  were  By  then  Mom  was  so  weak  and 
a  baby  you  loved  to  play  act.  You  sick  that  Sandra  would  have  prom- 
used  to  put  on  all  kinds  of  little  *sed  her  anything.  "I  promise, 
neighborhood  plays."  Mom  chuck-  Mom,  and  you  can  come  to  the  play 
led  at  the  memory.  "School  plays  and  see  me  in  all  my  glory."  She 
can  be  lots  of  fun,  Sandra."  struck  a  silly  pose.  "Linda  Darnell, 

"I'd  love  to  be  in  one,  too,  but  that's  me!" 
I  guess  I  could  never  get  up  the  Mom  laughed  at  that,  and  San- 
courage  to  try  out."  dra   prayed   silently,   "Please,   dear 

"You  can  do  anything  you  make  God,   she  must  get  well.     Surely 

up  your  mind  to  do,  Sandra."  she'll  be  stronger  soon." 

That  was  the  end  of  that  par-  She  was  never  any  stronger,  but 

ticular  conversation,  but  all  through  drifted  from  them  on  a  wave  of 

the  fall  Mom  kept  at  her  about  it,  pain  that  finally  came  at  full  tide 

'TO  THINE  OWN  SELF"  107 

and  proved  to  be  too  much  for  her  in   school.     In   the  beginning  she 

frail  body.  was  terrified  of  even  being  on  the 

Everyone    had    been    kind,    and  stage  with  him,  but  no  one  could 

there  were  still  relatives  and  neigh-  be  frightened  of  Brick  for  long.  He 

bors  who  worried  about  the  two  of  was  friendly  and  good-natured,  and 

them.  They  dropped  in  from  time  it  was  not  hard  to  see  what  made 

to    time   and    offered   advice   and  him   special.     It  wasn't   just   that 

samples    of    their    cooking.      Dad  everyone  liked  him,   it  was  really 

hardly  seemed  to  be  aware  of  her  more  that  he  liked  everyone.  Sandra 

and  became  so  quiet  that  she  often  made  up  her  mind  not  to  chase 

felt  she  was  all  alone  in  the  house,  him,  as  every  other  girl  in  the  cast 

He  came  home  from  his  days  work  was  doing. 

and  ate  whatever  she  had  fixed,  and  The  miracle  did  not  happen  all 

then  just  sat  in  his  big  chair  with  at  once.    There  was  a  while  when 

an  open  book  on  his  lap  and  stared  he  hardly  seemed  to  see  her  unless 

into  space.  they  were  on   the  stage  together. 

Then  slowly  and  surely  she  knew 

CANDRA  kept  her  promise  about  that  he  was  aware  of  her.  He  always 

the  school  play,  and  it  took  all  came  and  sat  by  her  between  scenes, 

her  courage  to  do  it.    The  part  of  and   then   he  started  walking  her 

Pat  was  the  lead,  and  it  was  really  home  from  rehearsal.     Quite  sud- 

a    comedy    part,    needing   a    light  denly  then  she  was  Brick's  girl,  and 

touch  and  a  good  sense  of  humor,  she  was  being  dated. 

Pat  was  forever  getting  herself  into  The  play  was  a  tremendous  suc- 

trouble,  and  then,  with  charm  and  cess,  and  playing  Pat  did  something 

guileless    simplicity,    struggling    to  for  Sandra.    Actually  she  was  not 

get  out,  and  only  managing  finally  unlike  Pat,  and  when  she  lost  some 

to  implicate  herself  in  such  a  hi-  of    her    shyness,    her    charm    and 

larious  situation  that  even  the  cast  sense  of  humor  had  a  chance  to 

at     rehearsal     would    howl    with  show.    Now  she  was  aware  of  eyes 

laughter.  following  her  through  the  hallways. 

Yes,  it  had  taken  courage,  and  Eyes  of  boys  and  girls,  eyes  of  envy 
she  could  still  remember  the  day  and  admiration.  She  was  no  long- 
she  saw  her  name  opposite  the  er  a  "houseplant"— she  was  a 
name  Pat  under  the  list  of  tryout  "match." 

winners.     She  had  felt  frozen  to  Brick  and  the  play  had  done  a 

the     spot     while     friends     surged  lot  for  her,  but  the  best  thing  they 

around  and  congratulated  her.  Her  had  done  was  to  help  her  through 

heart  and  mind  kept  saying,  "I  did  the   awful    grief    she    felt    at    her 

it,  Mom.    I  did  what  you  told  me  mother's  going.    Dad  was  no  help 

to.    I  did  my  best,  and  it  was  some-  at  all,  being  too  immersed  in  his 

how  good  enough."  own  grief.    The  night  of  the  play, 

Getting  the  part  of  Pat  was  only  just  before  she  was  to  make  her 

half  of  it.    Brick  Howard  had  the  entrance,  there  had  been  an  awful 

male    lead,    and    Sandra    was    im-  moment  when  she  felt  she  could 

mediately  the  envy  of  half  the  girls  not  go  on.    It  had  seemed  too  bit- 



ter  a  thing  that  Mom  would  not 
be  there  to  see  her  in  her  hour  of 
triumph.  Then  she  remembered 
something  Mom  said  in  the  hours 
before  she  died,  when  she  could 
see  that  Sandra's  grief  was  almost 
too  much  for  her  to  bear.  "Don't 
cry,  baby,  I'll  never  be  far  from 
you."  Mom  had  been  with  her 
the  night  of  the  play. 

Mom  had  been  with  her  last 
night,  too.  Last  night!  Gradua- 
tion dance,  and  it  should  have  been 
the  biggest  night  of  all,  but  it  had 
not  turned  out  that  way. 

'"PHE  trouble  really  began  at  the 
graduation  exercises  in  the  after- 
noon. She  sat  on  the  stand  watch- 
ing her  classmates  going  down  cen- 
ter front  for  their  diplomas.  The 
principal,  dressed  in  unfamiliar 
black,  handed  the  scroll  to  each 
student  in  turn,  and  if  there  were 
any  honors  to  be  accorded,  he  men- 
tioned them.  Then  would  follow 
the  applause  of  family  and  friends. 
Sandra  knew  there  would  be  some 
special  honors  when  they  called  her 
name.  The  school  play,  honor  stu- 
dent, assistant  editor  of  the  school 
paper.  But  who  would  clap?  Dad 
would  not  be  there.  When  Sandra 
tried  to  tell  him  about  graduation 
he  did  not  seem  to  understand  and 
asked  her  vaguely  if  she  needed 
extra  money.  Aunt  Myrtle,  moth- 
er's sister,  called  to  say  she  would 
be  there  for  sure.  Then  she  fell 
and  sprained  her  ankle.  So  there 
was  no  one. 

No  one  to  care  if  Sandra  An- 
drews won  any  honors.  No  one  to 
clap  and  smile  with  pride  at  her. 
Well,  someone  clapped.  Someone 
else's  mother  and  father.    When  it 

was  over  it  didn't  seem  so  bad,  ex- 
cept for  a  little  bitter  feeling  some- 
where in  her  heart. 

The  night  ahead  was  the  big 
thing.  Didn't  she  have  a  date  with 
Brick,  made  way  ahead  so  he  was 
sure  she  would  be  his  partner? 
Didn't  she  have  a  simply  out-of- 
this-world  white  tulle  formal? 

The  dance  was  all  she  had  ever 
dreamed  a  dance  should  be, 
enough  boys  cutting  in  on  her  to 
make  it  interesting,  and  enough 
dances  with  Brick  to  make  her  sure 
he  would  rather  dance  with  her 
than  anyone.  All  perfect  until  it 
was  time  to  go  home,  and  then 
Hebe  Hurley  invited  them  all  to 
come  to  his  house  and  dance  in  the 
recreation  room  in  the  basement. 
They  usually  went  to  Judy's  for 
something  to  eat,  but  Sandra  would 
a  thousand  times  rather  dance. 

CHE  felt  a  little  uneasy  when 
she  discovered  Hebe's  parents 
weren't  home,  but  someone  had  the 
record  machine  going,  and  they  be- 
gan to  dance.  It  was  fun  at  first, 
then  she  noticed  several  of  the  boys 
slipping  into  the  furnace  room,  and 
then  some  of  the  girls.  There  was 
a  lot  of  uneasy  giggling.  Sandra 
had  heard  stories  about  the  drink- 
ing that  went  on  in  some  groups, 
and  she  wondered  if  the  crowd  she 
had  tried  so  hard  to  enter  was  that 

While  she  stood  irresolute,  sud- 
denly it  was  as  though  the  whole 
scene  shifted,  and  she  was  looking 
it  it  through  Mom's  eyes.  Some- 
thing her  mother  said  to  her  on  her 
sixteenth  birthday  came  back  to 
her.  "You  have  to  care  about  your- 
self,  Sandra.     I  don't  mean  in  a 



selfish  way.  I  mean  you  have  to 
have  pride  in  yourself  and  what  you 
know  to  be  right.  This  says  it  bet- 
ter than  I  can." 

And  then  Mom  had  given  her  the 
little  card,  a  framed  quotation  from 
Shakespeare  that  still  hung  in  her 

To  thine  own  self  be  true, 

And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Quickly  Sandra  turned  to  Brick. 
"I  guess  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now, 
Brick.  I  don't  drink,  and  I  think 
Fd  better  go  home  now." 

"Jeepers,  this  is  graduation  night, 
and  it's  early."  Then,  when  she 
didn't  look  at  him  or  say  anything, 
''Well,  okay,  if  you  want  to  go, 
I'll  get  Jane  and  Bob." 

Brick  started  to  look  for  the 
couple  that  had  come  in  Brick's 
father's  car  with  them.  Sandra 
watched  him  leave  the  room,  won- 
dering if  he  was  angry  and  hoping 
that  she  had  been  both  kind  and 

Soon  Brick  was  back.  He 
spoke  indifferently,  as  if  he  didn't 
care  whether  or  not  she  stayed. 
"Jane  and  Bob  don't  want  to  leave 
yet,  so  maybe  I  can  take  you  home 

"See  you  later,  Brick,"  a  girl 
called  as  they  went  out  the  door. 

*  *  *  * 

CITTING  beside  the  old  trunk, 
all  the  misery  and  despair  of 
the  night  before  welled  up  inside 
Sandra.  She  fought  it  down  and 
began  to  work  on  the  lock  again. 
Better  get  it  open.  It  was  full  of 
mother's  things,  and  somewhere  in 
there  was  her  birth  certificate.  They 
had   called   from   the   church   and 

wanted  it  to  complete  some  records. 
Sandra  struggled  with  the  rusty 
lock,  and  finally  found  an  old  nail 
and  pried  it  open. 

Everything  was  neat  inside,  just 
as  her  mother  had  left  it.  Her  eyes 
filled  with  tears  as  the  memory  of 
her  mother  became  poignantly  real. 
She  began  going  through  the  papers 
methodically.  There  was  a  picture 
of  her  father.  It  was  held  securely 
to  a  slim  black  book  by  a  pink  rib- 
bon. Sandra  took  the  ribbon  off 
to  see  the  picture  better.  It  was 
Dad  all  right.  His  face  was  unfa- 
miliar, with  the  immature  round- 
ness of  youth,  but  the  heavy  eye- 
brows and  lopsided  grin  were  Dad's. 
She  opened  the  slim  book  and  be- 
gan to  read.  Why  it  was  some  sort 
of  diary  in  Mom's  handwriting. 
The  date  was  almost  twenty  years 
ago.    She  read: 

Jiggs  asked  me  for  another  date! 
Oh  joy!  Oh  bliss! 

She  turned  the  pages  slowly,  and 
there  was  mention  of  school  and 
Church  parties,  a  tooth  pulled, 
some  new  shoes,  and  always  Jiggs. 

Jiggs  wants  me  to  sluff  school  Friday 
and  go  to  South  Fork  on  a  picnic.  The 
boys  are  going  to  get  some  beer  from 
Foggins.  The  whole  gang  is  going  I 
guess.     What  to  do? 

And  the  next  date: 

I  have  to  make  up  my  mind  about 
that  picnic  tomorrow.  I  want  to  go  and 
I  don't  want  to  go.  I  know  I  shouldn't 
sluff  school  and  drink  beer,  but  everyone 
else  is  going  to.  Jiggs  will  probably  go 
without  me  if  I  back  out. 

The  next  date  read: 

Guess  the  gang  had  a  swell   time.     I 

know  most  of  them  went  because  of  the 

(Continued  on  page  138) 

Ernest  Briscoe 


vast  die 


'ast  criorizoas  waning 

Harn'ette  Grace  Eaton 

Our  fathers  earned  the  guerdon  they  desired: 
To  hand  their  sons  untrammeled  liberty. 
Shall  we,  complacent,  let  it  slip  away, 
Forget  the  satisfaction  work  can  be? 
Stretch  out  our  hands  for  help,  in  indolence, 
When  vast  horizons  call  to  victory, 
Leave  fetters  of  frustration  to  our  sons, 
Or  bid  them  strive  to  win  their  destiny? 

(jonquil  in  QJebruaru 

Ouida  Johns  Pedersen 

He  seems  impertinent  and  gay, 
Confronting  the  stone  slab  of  day, 
And  lifts  his  head  of  petaled  gold 
In  bright  protest  against  the  cold. 
Jauntily,  he  bows  and  nods 
In  a  wind  of  overwhelming  odds. 

Page  110 


Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

Immortal  Commoner!     Alone  he  stood, 
Fighting  for  oneness  to  outlast  the  stars. 
What  does  he  think  of  our  sick  brotherhood, 
Shackled  by  heavy  chains  and  prison  bars 
Of  apathy  and  indolence  and  greed? 
I  wonder,  does  his  tender,  great  heart  bleed? 

Uncertain  Possession 

Beatrice  R.  Parsons 
Chapter  2 

Synopsis:  Lorna  Ash  ton,  an  orphan 
living  with  a  cousin,  marries  Dr.  Matthew 
Wire,  who  has  completed  his  internship 
at  General  Hospital.  Soon  thereafter 
Matthew  is  called  back  to  his  hometown, 
Westfield,  Nevada,  by  the  illness  of  his 
uncle,  a  doctor,  which  makes  it  necessary 
for  young  Matt  to  take  over  the  prac- 
tice temporarily.  Lorna  fears  that  there 
will  be  no  place  for  her  in  Westfield,  and 
that  Matthew's  friends  and  relatives  will 
mean  so  much  to  him  that  he  will  no 
longer  be  wholly  hers. 

THE  next  few  days  were  a 
blurred  confusion  to  Lorna, 
filled  with  the  excitement  of 
getting  to  know  Uncle  John  and 
Nurse  Hallie,  and  with  meeting 
Matt's  friends.  Sometimes  Lorna's 
mind  whirled  with  everything  that 
was  happening.  She  smiled  until 
her  smile  seemed  pasted  on  her 
face.  Not  that  she  wasn't  trying 
to  understand  and  like  Matt's 
friends.  Only  that  she  was  still 
frightened,  a  stranger  in  Westfield. 
She  liked  Uncle  John.  He  had 
greeted  her  with  a  gentle  kiss, 
standing  bent  and  worn  with  the 
aid  of  his  cane.  His  welcome  had 
warmed  where  Nurse  Hallie' s  crisp 
greeting  had  chilled  her.  As  Matt 
had  predicted,  she  was  fearful  of 
Nurse  Hallie's  starched  uniform, 
and  capable  actions.  But  there  was 
honest  affection  in  the  elderly 
woman's  eyes  when  she  smiled  at 
Matt's  teasing.  Lorna  knew  they 
were  very  fond  of  each  other  and 
of  Uncle  John.  This  fondness  was 
a  part  of  Matt's  past,  and  so  shut 
Lorna  out.  But  she  knew  he  was 
overjoyed  to  show  her  his  home. 

He  apologized  a  little  when  he 
showed  her  the  house.  "It's  not 
new-fashioned.  But  it's  strong, 
durable.  Why,  some  of  the  first 
stones  my  great-grandfather  dug 
from  his  land  go  to  make  up  the 

The  walls  were  thick  and  cool. 
The  deep-silled  windows  gathered 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  mak- 
ing the  room  seem  flooded  with 
pink  light.  A  strange  thought  crept 
into  her  mind.  The  sun  which  had 
shone  against  Matt's  great-grand- 
mother's cotton  sunbonnet  still 
shone  against  Matt's  dark  cap  of 
hair.  He  stood  there  and  the  long 
fingers  of  dying  sunlight  caressed 
his  head  in  a  sort  of  benediction. 
Outside  the  windows  the  leaves  of 
the  cottonwood  stirred  in  a  sudden 
breeze.  She  wondered  if  those 
trees  had  been  planted  by  Matt's 
great-grandfather.  It  struck  her, 
forcefully,  that  Matt  and  his  great- 
grandfather looked  much  alike,  com- 
paring the  faded  painting  on  the 
wall  with  Matt's  clean-cut  profile. 

Lorna  moved  restlessly  and 
thought,  his  roots  are  as  stubborn 
as  the  roots  of  the  yucca  out  there 
in  the  desert.  She  knew  she  had 
never  had  any  roots  at  all.  But  she 
wanted  no  roots  here  in  this  desert. 
It  frightened  her  so  that  she  moved 

"Surely,"  she  said,  looking 
around  with  a  distasteful  glance, 
"someone  will  take  the  house  off 
your  hands." 

Matt  was  shocked  by  her  voice. 
He  turned  quickly  from  the  window 

Page  1 1 1 



and  his  features  were  blotted  out 
in  the  shadows.  His  voice  sounded 
queerly  hollow  when  he  spoke. 

"Uncle  John  will  .  .  .  buy  .  .  . 
it,  Lorna,"  then  after  a  long  pause, 
"if  we  decide  to  take  that  office  at 
Doctors'  Center." 

UE  was  very  quiet  as  he  led  her 
toward  the  building  which 
housed  the  offices.  She  was  sur- 
prised to  find  anything  so  up-to- 
date  and  modern  in  Westfield. 
There  were  great,  gleaming  ma- 
chines, enameled  tables,  a  porcelain 
sink,  examination  tables— every- 
thing of  the  very  latest  design.  The 
waiting  room  shut  out  the  sun  with 
neat,  white  Venetian  blinds.  It  was 
furnished  with  easy  chairs  and  plas- 
tic upholstered  divans.  It  opened 
into  two  offices.  Uncle  John's 
name  was  lettered  on  one.  The  oth- 
er was  Matt's.    Lorna  read  it  proud- 

Dr.  Matthew  Wire  .  .  .  Physician 
Office  Hours  10  Until  5 

"And  after  hours,  Matt!  Until 
seven,  eight,  even  midnight!  A 
country  doctor  can't  call  his  time 
his  own."  Her  voice  was  sharp,  but 
Matt's  grin  was  agreeable. 

"My  first  memories  of  wanting 
to  be  a  doctor  go  back  to  riding  in 
the  old  buckboard  with  my  grand- 
father. I  used  to  wake  when  he 
had  a  call.  Sometimes  Dad  let  me 
go  with  him,  if  Mother  didn't  ob- 
ject." His  smile  turned  inward, 
lighting  the  depths  of  his  eyes  with 
sadness.  "She  didn't  object  very 
often,"  he  added  tenderly.  "She 
knew  how  I  felt." 

Lorna  gave  him  a  sharp  glance. 
Was  he  hinting  that  she,  also,  knew 
how  he  felt? 

It  had  been  different  when  he 
was  a  child.  This  had  been  his 
mother's  home.  She  had  always 
lived  in  Westfield,  and  she  didn't 
dislike  the  thought  that  Matt  would 
turn  out  to  be  a  country  doctor  like 
his  father,  his  grandfather,  and  his 

Matt  had  told  her  that  there  had 
always  been  a  doctor  in  the  family. 

And,  of  course,  there  would  be 
one  again  as  soon  as  Uncle  John 
was  well  again.  Lorna  felt  brighter 
as  Matt  took  her  into  the  well- 
equipped  laboratory— Hallie's  do- 
main, he  called  it— and  showed  her 
the  white  refrigerators. 

When  he  opened  them  Lorna 
discovered  that  everything— penicil- 
lin, sulpha,  and  other  drugs  she  had 
never  heard  of,  were  neatly  pack- 
aged, and  labeled  in  Hallie's  pre- 
cise, old-fashioned  writing.  Matt 
talked  of  Hallie  with  an  affectionate 
smile  on  his  lips. 

"She's  a  great  old  girl,  darling! 
When  you  know  her,  you'll  love 
her  as  much  as  I  do.  She  looks 
cold  and  frightening,  but  she's  not. 
You  should  see  her  handle  a  sick 
child,  or  a  crying  baby."  He  grew 
reminiscent.  "After  Mother  died, 
she  looked  after  me  with  all  the  de- 
votion in  the  world.  She  even  let 
me  come  into  her  lab— it  wasn't 
new  and  sparkling  like  this  at  that 
time— and  play  with  her  bottles  and 

Lorna  watched  the  play  of  ex- 
pression on  Matt's  face,  and  felt  a 
queer,  tugging  loneliness.  She  won- 
dered if  she  could  be  jealous  of 
Hallie.  Hallie  who  would  be  at 
Matt's  side  when  the  Honson  twins 
were  born!  She  spoke  almost  plead- 



"Why  didn't  I  study  nursing  at 
the  U,  instead  of  all  those  other 
things,  Matt?  Then  I  could 
help.  .  .  ." 

"You  do  help/'  said  Matt,  drop- 
ping a  kiss  on  the  top  of  her  bronze 
curls,  "just  by  being  my  wife." 

CHE  loved  hearing  him  say  it, 
but  she  wasn't  content.  She 
turned,  coaxing,  "I  insist  that  you 
take  me  with  you,  Matt.  Take  me 
with  you  when  you  go  out  on 
calls.  .  .  "  She  saw  that  his  glance 
had  turned  sharply  towards  her, 
and  she  explained  hurriedly:  "I  can 
meet  people  that  way,  Matt.  Get 
to  know  them/' 

He  smiled  and  nodded.  "I  want 
you  to  meet  all  my  old  friends.  I 
want  them  to  love  you  as  I  do." 
His  dark  eyes  glowed  into  hers,  and 
he  spoke  thoughtfully,  almost  as 
though  he  were  unaware  that  he 
was  revealing  his  thoughts.  "There's 
something  about  being  a  general 
practitioner,  like  my  father  before 
me,  that  fascinates  me,  Lorna. 
There're  always  so  many  things  to 
learn.  And  I  keep  thinking  that 
here  in  Westfield  I'll  be  the  pupil 
and  all  my  friends  will  be  my  teach- 
ers. It's  not  only  their  illnesses 
that  will  concern  me.  It's  their 
joys  and  sorrows,  their  triumphs  and 
their  fears." 

Fears!  Lorna's  mind  snapped  at 
the  word  and  she  knew  that  her 
own  fear  was  growing  with  Matt's 
words,  with  the  look  in  his  serious, 
dark  eyes. 

"Oh,  Matt,"  she  burst  out  woe- 
fully, "there's  so  little  I  know  about 
medicine.  Penicillin,  ACTH,  and 
Cortisone  are  just  words,  although 
Uncle  John  does  take  them  to  con- 

trol his  arthritis!  I've  made  up  my 
mind  to  study  Hallie's  Nursing  Dic- 
tionary. I  need  to  learn,  because 
back  in  Doctors'  Center  they  will 
expect  a  doctor's  wife  to  know 

Matt  agreed  quietly,  although  his 
voice  was  a  little  gruff.  He  glanced 
from  the  big  windows  in  front,  and 
remarked  lightly,  "We're  going  to 
have  our  very  first  visitor,  Lorna. 
I  see  Carole  crossing  the  street. 
Shall  we  go  out  and  meet  her?" 

T  ORNA  saw  the  little  girl  with 
the  roller  skates  coming  to- 
wards them.  Her  brown  braids 
were  pushed  out  behind  her  as  she 
flew  along  the  sidewalk,  and  there 
was  an  eager  interest  in  her  wide 
blue  eyes. 

"Are  you  really  going  to  live  here, 
Dr.  Matt?"  she  cried  when  she  saw 
him.  "Are  you  really  going  to  be 
our  doctor?" 

He  nodded  gravely.  "I  really  am, 
Carole."  Then  he  introduced  Lor- 
na and  said:  "I  do  hope  you  two 
are  going  to  be  fast  friends." 

"We  are,"  announced  Carole 
firmly,  and  put  out  her  small  hand. 
"Can  I  call  you  Lorna?"  she  asked 
as  they  shook  hands.  "I  think 
that's  a  very  pretty  name." 

Lorna's  smile  told  her  that  she 
could.  Then  Lorna  looked  at  the 
small,  golden  cocker  which  trailed 
the  child's  skates  and  asked  his 

"Chews!"  said  Carole,  smiling 
and  showing  the  place  where  her 
front  tooth  was  gone.  "I  call  him 
that  because  that's  what  he  always 
does.  I  love  him  very,  very  much. 
He's  my  most-best  p'session!" 

"Possession?"  Matt  repeated  the 


word   laughingly,   and   teased   her:  He  finished  a  little  harshly,  then, 

'Til  bet  you  heard  that  somewhere,  as  if  he  felt  he  had  been  almost  too 

I'll  bet  you  don't  even  know  what  forceful  about  it,  he  caught  Lorna's 

it  means."  hand  and  said  lightly:  "Come  and 

"It     means,"     said     Carole     tri-  look  at   the  rock  garden,   darling, 

umphantly,  "that  I  own  him.    No  The  cactus   is  in   bloom.     You've 

one  can  take  him  away  from  me."  never  seen  cactus  blooming  before, 

She  frowned,  trying  to  go  on,  and  have  you?" 

looked  to  Lorna  for  help.  She  was  glad  to  hide  her  face, 

"It  means  you  love  him  very,  the  drained  look  in  her  gray  eyes, 
very  much,  and  want  to  keep  him  as  she  leaned  over  the  brilliant  flow- 
all  for  yourself,  and  never  want  ers  They  were  as  big  as  pottery 
anyone  else  to  have  him,"  said  cups>  an(j  just  as  colorful  with  their 
Lorna  gravely.  "Just  like  the  way  delicate,  icy-looking  pinks,  golds, 
I  feel  about  my  china  kittens,"  she  and  ivories.  They  were  deceivingly 
added  thoughtfully.  lovely?  and?  with  a  little  cry  of  de_ 

"Kittens?"   Matt   caught  at  the  light?  Lorna  put  out  her  hand  to 

word  with  a  puzzled  tone.  "I  didn't  examine    them.     Carole's   warning 

know  you  had  any  kittens."  came  too  late 

Lorna   wished   she  hadn't   men-  „Look         "  Lorna,„ 
boned   them.     Carole  s   eyes,   too, 

were    filled   with   a    puzzled   look.  But,  already,  she  had  run  a  cac- 

Lorna's  face  was  pink  as  she  said,  tus   spme  into  her  slender  finger. 

"Someone  gave  them  to  me  when  A  SW>  bltin|;  stinging  pain  swam 

I  was  about  Carole's  age.     I  loved  "P,1"*  ar™'    Matt  cau &*  ber  hand 

them-still  love  them  very  much.  and  f1^  drew  the  little  spme 

I   brought  them  with   me  to  put  out  of  the  pale  flesh.    But  the  pain 

on    my   dresser   so   that   I'd   never  went  °n  spinning  through  her  hand 

forget  how  I  used  to  feel  about  be-  Carole  stared  at  the  tiny  drop  of 

ing  alone.    I  had  no  one.    Nothing  £blood  uwhich    Mat*   had    squeezed 

else  to  comfort  me.     Cousin  Em  from  the  sPot>  and  sPoke  §ravely- 

was  kind,  but  we  were  never  close.  "Once   Chews   tried   to   smell   a 

So  I  clung  to  my  kittens.    They  be-  cactus   flower,   and   Dr.   John   had 

came  a  symbol  of  ownership."  to  op'rate  on  his  little  nose." 

Lorna  stared  at  the  tiny  spot  and 

TyiATT    protested   bluntly:    "Any  wondered  how  anything  could  be 

psychiatrist    could    tell    you,  so   cruel.      It   was    something   like 

Lorna,  that  it's  not  good  for  any-  life— all    bright    and    beautiful    on 

one  to  possess— really  possess— any-  the   surface,    but   quick    to    thrust 

thing.    Carole  doesn't  really  possess  sharp  points  to  wound  and  surprise 

her  little  dog.    He  loves  her,  looks  her.     She  couldn't  understand  all 

to   her    for   kindness,    food,    other  the  things  that  were  happening  to 

things.      But     she    doesn't    really  her. 

possess  him.    He's  a  free  little  crea-  Here  were   beautiful,   waxy-look- 

ture.    He  belongs  to  himself.  Noth-  ing  cactus  blossoms  and  she  must 

ing  worth  having  is  worth  possess-  not  touch  them.    Back  in  the  old 

ing!  (Continued  on  page  140) 

uier  d~Lobbt[   [Brings  utappiness 

Martha  J.  Holm,  Eighty  Years  Old,  Makes  Keepsakes  For   Her 
Children  and  Grandchildren 

Martha  J.  Holm,  Logan,  Utah,  now  eighty  years  old,  finds  much  pleasure  in  mak- 
ing keepsakes  for  her  seven  children  and  her  twenty-nine  grandchildren.  She  makes 
quilts,  crocheted  tablecloths,  bedspreads,  doilies,  pillowslips,  sofa  pillows,  and  many 
other  decorative  articles,  including  some  exquisite  textile  painting.  She  does  all  types 
of  plain  and  fancy  sewing  and  tailoring.  The  homes  of  all  her  children  and  grand- 
children contain  some  article  of  handwork  made  by  Mrs.  Holm. 

Her  activities  have  extended  beyond  homemaking  and  giftmaking,  for  she  has 
taken  an  active  part  in  Church  and  community  work  wherever  she  has  lived.  For 
eighteen  years  she  was  a  ward  Relief  Society  president  and  during  this  time  she  nursed 
the  sick,  assisted  at  births,  and  helped  to  prepare  the  dead  for  burial.  She  still  enjoys 
work  and  is  grateful  for  the  privilege  of  service.  "All  through  my  years  of  service  in 
Relief  Society  and  other  organizations,"  says  Mrs.  Holm,  "I  have  been  greatly  blessed. 
My  health  even  at  the  present  time  is  good.  I  keep  my  own  flower  and  vegetable 
gardens  and  do  much  work.    I  enjoy  reading." 

Sr         ^c         ^r         <Jr 


Gertrude  Kovan 

The  rich  may  give  great  gifts  to  the  Lor»d, 
But  from  some  poor  man's  meager  hoard, 
Who  has  come  to  give  unto  God  his  all, 
Which  may  only  be  just  one  thing,  small, 
And  in  the  wisdom  of  the  Lord's  eyes 
This  man  gives  a  greater  sacrifice. 

Page  115 

cJ noughts  on  [Patience 

Florence  S.  Glines 

PATIENCE  is  in  no  sense  a  passive  virtue.  It  is  not  enduring  things  without  an 
effort  to  improve  them.  It  is  not  resignation.  It  is  not  giving  up  with  a  "What's 
the  use?"  attitude.  It  is  just  the  opposite.  It  is  the  willingness  to  try,  try  again.  It 
is  the  vision  and  the  inward  fortitude  to  analyze  a  situation  and  try  one  way  after  an- 
other until  success  is  found. 

Patience  means  staying  steadfastly  with  what  you  know  ought  to  be,  without  get- 
ting emotionally  upset,  until  the  task  is  accomplished.  It  means  looking  to  the  end 
result  without  minding  the  effort  it  takes  to  reach  it.  It  means  doing  everything  pos- 
sible, without  fussing  over  the  ticking  of  the  clock  or  the  tired  ache  in  your  bones. 

Patience  is  one  of  the  chief  ingredients  of  genius.  Someone  has  said,  "Genius 
is  the  capacity  for  taking  infinite  pains" — and  that  is  patience.  We  call  patience  by 
a  great  many  names:  genius,  ability,  luck,  skill,  brains.  But  if  others  do  better  than 
we,  it  is  often  due  to  the  fact  that  they  use  more  patience  than  we  use. 

"Oh,  I  can't  get  it  right!"  should  be,  "I'm  not  willing  to  stick  to  it  until  it  is 

Patience,  like  any  quality,  becomes  a  habit  through  use  and  repetition.  Try  to 
keep  your  head  when  faced  with  a  difficulty — also  when  faced  with  everyday  living. 
Try  to  see  what  the  real  problem  is  and  then  tackle  it.  Stay  with  it  calmly.  Come 
back  to  it.  Train  your  patience.  You  will  reap  the  reward  of  serenity  and  success. 
It  works  out  something  like  the  story  of  the  race  between  the  hare  and  the  tortoise. 
Remember,  "The  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong,"  but  to  him 
who  has  the  patience  to  bring  his  work  to  completion. 

ibims  tn    vU inter 

Dorothy  J.  Roberts 

The  curving  boughs  of  elm  trees,  black  and  bare, 
Hold  the  shapes  of  lutes  upon  the  air 
Throughout  the  winter,  motionless,  benign, 
Each  dark  limb  grown  into  a  graceful  line. 

Lifting  a  lute  for  every  wind  to  smite, 
Their  branches  break  the  monotone  of  white 
And  write  with  charcoal  bark  for  all  to  read 
Of  men  who  cherished  once  the  smallest  seed. 

Over  the  city,  summerless  and  grim, 

Arching  the  avenues  like  cherubim, 

They  spread  the  forms  of  peace  where  people  go 

And  bless  their  tangled  footprints  in  the  snow. 

Page  116 

From  The  Field 

Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123. 


Photograph    submitted    by    Edna    S.    Hatch 


Members  of  the  Paragonah  Relief  Society  participated  in  a  carpet-weaving  project 
during  1951 — Iron  County's  centennial  year.  The  beautiful  rag  carpet  shown  in  the 
picture  was  woven  under  the  supervision  of  Anna  Riding  Williamson,  a  professional 
weaver  (standing  at  the  left).  Twenty  Relief  Society  members  participated  in  the 
weaving,  and  practically  all  the  members  sewed  rags  or  strips  of  carpeting  together. 
Emma  B.  Dal  ton  is  the  ward  Relief  Society  president. 

Edna  S.  Hatch  is  president  of  Parowan  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Page  117 



Photograph  submitted  by  Bessie  W.  Dayley 


October  16,  1951 

Left  to  right:  June  Dorsey,  work  meeting  leader;  Ida  Burrell,  Counselor;  Faye 
Hammond,  President;  Hannah  Mathews,  Counselor. 

Numerous  articles  of  fine  workmanship  were  exhibited  and  sold  at  this  bazaar. 
Particularly  outstanding  were  the  lovely  quilts  and  the  large  assortment  of  work 
aprons  and  fancy  aprons.  Many  beautifully  embroidered  tablecloths  and  pillowslips 
were  included  as  well  as  toys  and  dolls. 

Emily  S.  Romish  is  president  of  West  Pocatello  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Rula  W.  Choules 


ACHIEVEMENT  DAY,  August  9,  1951 

Front  row,  seated,  Relief  Society  district  and  branch  officers:  Second  from  the 
left,  Pearl  Paulk,  Second  Counselor  in  the  Georgia-Florida  District;  Mildred  Barlow, 
District  Secretary;  Tottie  Brown,  District  President. 



Second  row,  standing:  Seventh  from  the  left,  Florence  Milton,  member  of  the 
district  Relief  Society  board  and  President,  Genoa  Branch. 

Third  row,  standing:  At  left,  Rachel  Roberts,  member  of  the  district  board  and 
President,  Douglas  Branch;  fourth  from  the  left,  Ida  Mae  Carver,  member  of  the 
district  board;  sixth  from  the  left,  Luella  Bell,  member  of  the  district  board;  seventh 
from  the  left,  Mary  Cooper,  member,  district  board. 

Fourth  row,  standing:  Third  from  the  left,  Lillian  Thornton,  member,  district 

Back  row,  standing:  At  left,  Olive  Dyal,  President,  Live  Oak  Branch  Relief  So- 
ciety; third  from  the  left,  Frances  Hammock,  President,  Perry  Branch;  fourth  from  the 
left,  Annie  Mills,  member,  district  board;  sixth  from  the  left,  Ollie  Mae  Adams,  dis- 
trict Magazine  representative;  Ora  Wilkerson,  President,  Willacoochee  Branch;  Eliza- 
beth Lott,  President,  Fitzgerald  Branch. 

For  this  happy  occasion  Relief  Society  sisters  from  all  over  the  district  assembled 
in  the  forenoon,  bringing  their  lunch  with  them,  which  was  enjoyed  under  the  trees, 
near  the  chapel  at  Douglas,  Georgia.  A  beautiful  display  of  sewing  and  art  work  was 
arranged  in  the  chapel.  A  program  and  recreational  events  added  much  to  the  en- 
joyment of  the  day,  but  the  highlight  was  the  testimony  meeting  held  after  the  other 
events.  There  are  thirteen  branch  Relief  Societies  in  the  district,  and  these  gatherings 
have  been  an  annual  affair  since  1948. 

Rula  W.  Choules  is  president  of  the  Southern  States  Mission  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Emma  B.    Solomon 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Ellen  Hafen;  Carrie  Conger;  Flossie  Wasden; 
Myrtle  Cheel;  LaPriel  Bunker,  former  stake  Relief  Society  first  counselor,  now  president 
of  the  California  Mission  Relief  Society;  Lucile  Earl,  former  president;  Leah  Huntsman, 
former  second  counselor;  Dinah  Chadburn;  Rena  Hardy;  Rosella  Hunt. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Dency  Stout;  Hazel  Hardy;  Lillie  Dotson;  Delia 
Schofield;  Dean  Tinkler;  Ruby  Ostenson;  Erma  Leavitt;  Alta  Cooper;  Effie  Tobler; 
Effa  Swapp;  Adelia  Shurtliff;  Evelina  Williams;  Melba  Lewis;  Rhoda  Leavitt;  Olive 
Marshall;  Hazel  Christensen;  Marie  Flowers;  Minerva  McKnight;  Alice  Aldredge; 
Arvilla  Johnson;  Amy  Pierce;  Julia  Walker;  Frances  Harper. 

Especially  honored  were  the  members  who  had  served  either  as  officers  or  as 
visiting  teachers  for  twenty  years  or  more. 

Emma  B.  Solomon  is  president  of  Moapa  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Esther  K.   Gunnell 


The  ward  Relief  Society  president,  Wilma  Svedin,  stands  in  the  back  row,  at  the 
left.  This  ward  made  a  100  per  cent  visiting  teaching  record  for  fourteen  months — 
September  1950  through  November  1951. 

Esther  K.  Gunnell  is  president  of  Murray  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Beulah  Warren 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Artimesia  S.  Stewart;  Sarah  J.  Schofield;  Edna 
S.  Frehner;  Nettie  R.  Graff. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Louise  B.  Stewart;  Mary  S.  Lee;  Cecil  V.  Wads- 
worth;  Gertrude  B.  Nelson. 

This  group  includes  all  presidents  from  1906  to  the  present  time,  except  Mary 
Ann  Stewart  and  Susan  W.  Wadsworth,  deceased. 

A  corsage  was  presented  to  each  woman,  and  a  short  outline  of  her  life  given. 

Mary  A.  Hansen  is  president  of  Uvada  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Pearl  U.   Winkler 



Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Gladys  Peterson  (1947-49);  Hannah  Matson 
(1940-41);  Sybil  Hanson  (1932-34). 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Jane  Brinton  (1929-32);  Annie  Jensen  (1936 
40);  Talula  Nelson  (1941-45);  Amy  B.  Ursenbach  (1945-47);  Virginia  Jensen  (1949- 
51);  Clea  R.  Madsen,  who  was  president  one  week  before  the  division  of  the  ward. 

These  sisters  are  nine  of  the  presidents  who  have  served  in  the  Mount  Pleasant  North 
Ward,  which  was  the  first  ward  organized  in  Mount  Pleasant.  Sister  Ilia  Anderson,  who 
served  from  1932  to  1936,  was  unable  to  be  present  when  the  picture  was  taken. 

Pearl  U.  Winkler  is  president  of  North  Sanpete  Stake  Relief  Society. 

<y  or gotten  JLadder 

Grace  Barker  Wilson 

A  ladder  leans  against  a  barren  tree 

In  the  deserted  orchard.    The  red  paint 

Curls  crisply  from  the  weather  and  the  wind 

Like  tiny  leaves  the  autumn  has  forgot. 

The  busy  feet  that  recently  had  climbed 

Up  to  the  top  to  gather  russet  pears, 

Now  tarry  by  the  fireplace  in  the  glow 

Of  winter  warmth.    No  living  thing  comes  near. 

Except  a  flock  of  birds,  in  passing,  rest 

A  moment  in  the  branches  overhead. 

It  is  a  haunting  and  nostalgic  thing 

To  see  a  ladder  standing  lonesomely. 



cJheology — Characters  and  Teachings  of  The  Book 

of  Mormon 

Lesson  8— Lehi,  Man  of  Visions 

Elder  Lehnd  H.  Monson 

(Text:  The  Book  of  Mormon:  I  Nephi,  chapters  1-8.) 

For  Tuesday,  May  6,  1952 

Objective:  To  show  that  "the  tender  mercies  of  the  Lord  are  over  all  those  whom 
he  hath  chosen,  because  of  their  faith,  to  make  them  mighty  even  unto  the  power  of 
deliverance"  (I  Nephi  1:20). 

FT  was  in  the  first  year  of  the  reign 
of  Zedekiah,  ruler  of  the  king- 
dom of  Judah,  that  many  prophets 
came  into  Jerusalem  to  warn  the 
people  of  the  impending  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem  unless  the  people 
repented  of  their  sins. 

Even  earlier  than  the  reign  of 
Zedekiah  in  Jerusalem,  the  Hebrews 
had  heard  the  warning  voice  of  a 
great  Old  Testament  prophet. 
Isaiah  preached  political  and  ec- 
clesiastical reform  near  the  end  of 
the  eighth  century  b.c.  He  could 
see  the  approaching  downfall  of 
Jerusalem.  Time  after  time,  he  ad- 
dressed the  people  who  thronged 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  The  As- 
syrians, he  insisted,  had  been  per- 
mitted to  waste  and  plunder  Pales- 
tine because  of  the  wrongdoing  of 
the  people  of  the  kingdom  of  Israel. 
Another  prophet,  this  one  living 
within  the  reign  of  Zedekiah,  was 
Jeremiah.  Reform  was  the  one 
thing  needful  for  the  salvation  of 
Israel.     But  his  message  went  un- 

Page  122 

heeded.     He  was   persecuted  and 

Ezekiel,  another  Old  Testament 
prophet  of  the  period,  did  much  of 
his  preaching  between  592  b.c.  and 
586  b.c.  Like  Jeremiah,  he  pre- 
dicted the  utter  destruction  of  Jeru- 
salem unless  the  people  repented. 
He  taught  that  men  were  individual- 
ly accountable  to  God,  and  called 
upon  each  one  to  examine  his  own 

The  great  patriarch  of  The  Book 
of  Mormon,  Lehi,  felt  as  these  oth- 
er prophets,  that  the  crying  need 
of  Jerusalem  was  for  individual  re- 
pentance. Called  by  God  as  one 
of  the  great  prophets  of  this  twi- 
light period  of  Jewish  nationalism, 
he  felt  his  responsibility  keenly.  He 
prayed  to  the  Lord  with  a  sincere 
heart  in  behalf  of  his  people. 

In  answer  to  his  prayer  "there 
came  a  pillar  of  fire  and  dwelt  upon 
a  rock  before  him;  and  he  saw  and 
heard  much"  (I  Nephi  1:6).  Quak- 
ing and  trembling  with  fear,  he  re- 



turned  to  his  house  in  Jerusalem, 
cast  himself  upon  his  bed, 

.  .  .  and  was  carried  away  in  a  vision, 
even  that  he  saw  the  heavens  open  and 
he  thought  he  saw  God  sitting  upon  his 
throne,  surrounded  with  numberless  con- 
courses of  angels  in  the  attitude  of  sing- 
ing and  praising  their  God.  ...  He  saw 
one  descending  out  of  the  midst  of  heav- 
en, and  he  beheld  that  his  luster  was 
above  that  of  the  sun  at  noon-day.  And 
he  also  saw  twelve  others  following  him, 
and  their  brightness  did  exceed  that  of  the 
stars  in  the  firmament  (I  Nephi  i:3,  9). 

The  first  one  came  and  stood 
before  Lehi,  handed  him  a  book, 
and  bade  him  read.  He  was  filled 
with  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  and  he 
read,  "Wo,  wo,  unto  Jerusalem, 
for  I  have  seen  thine  abomina- 
tions!" (I  Nephi  1:13).  Many 
things  did  Lehi  read  concerning 
Jerusalem,  that  it  should  be  de- 
stroyed, and  that  many  of  the  peo- 
ple should  perish  by  the  sword,  and 
that  many  others  should  be  taken 
into  captivity  in  Babylon. 

Lehi  went  forth  among  the  Jews 
and  prophesied  concerning  those 
things  which  he  had  both  seen  and 
heard.  To  them  he  testified  of 
their  wickedness  and  abominations. 
The  Jews  mocked  him  and  sought 
to  take  his  life,  but,  as  Nephi  wrote: 
"The  tender  mercies  of  the  Lord 
are  over  all  those  whom  he  has 
chosen,  because  of  their  faith,  to 
make  them  mighty  even  unto  the 
power  of  deliverance"  (I  Nephi 

The  Lord  commanded  Lehi  in  a 
dream  that  he  should  depart  with 
his  family  into  the  wilderness. 
Obedient  to  this  commandment, 
Lehi  took  his  family,  provisions,  and 
tents,  and  departed  into  the  wilder- 
ness, leaving  his  house,  his  gold,  sil- 

ver, and  precious  things  in  Jerusa- 
lem. His  family  comprised  his 
wife,  Sariah,  and  sons  Laman,  Lem- 
uel, Sam,  and  Nephi.  He  traveled 
three  days  in  the  wilderness  in  the 
borders  near  the  Red  Sea,  and  then 
pitched  his  tent  in  a  valley  by  the 
side  of  a  river  of  water. 

There  he  built  an  altar  of  stones, 
and  made  an  offering  unto  the  Lord, 
and  gave  thanks. 

His  solicitous  nature  for  the  wel- 
fare of  his  family  is  implicit  in 
what  he  said  as  he  gazed  around 
the  little  valley  in  which  they  were 
encamped.  Observing  that  the  river 
emptied  into  the  Red  Sea,  he  turned 
to  his  oldest  son,  Laman,  and  said: 

O  that  thou  mightest  be  like  unto  this 
river,  continually  running  into  the  foun- 
tain of  all  righteousness  (I  Nephi  1:9). 

And  then  he  said  to  Lemuel: 

O  that  thou  mightest  be  like  unto  this 
valley,  firm  and  steadfast,  and  immovable 
in  keeping  the  commandments  of  the 
Lord   (I  Nephi  1:10). 

It  was  from  the  depths  of  a  sor- 
rowing heart  that  these  words  came, 
for  these  two  wayward  sons  had 
been  complaining  that  their  father 
was  a  visionary  man  who  had  led 
them  out  of  Jerusalem  to  perish  in 
the  wilderness,  because  of  the  fool- 
ish imaginations  of  his  heart.  The 
same  spirit  which  possessed  the  un- 
believing Jews  in  Jerusalem  was  in 
these  two  sons.  They  did  not  be- 
lieve the  words  of  the  prophets  that 
Jerusalem  was  in  danger  of  immi- 
nent destruction.  Lehi,  however, 
being  filled  with  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord,  confounded  them  that  they 
did  not  dare  to  speak  against  him, 
and  they  did  as  he  commanded. 
Nephi,  however,  desiring  to  know 



the  mysteries  of  God,  cried  unto 
the  Lord  and  was  visited  by  the 
Lord  so  Nephi  believed  the  words 
which  Lehi  had  spoken  and  Sam 
believed  on  Nephi's  words. 

Lehi  spoke  to  his  youngest  son, 
Nephi,  telling  him  that  the  Lord 
had  commanded  him  in  a  dream  to 
send  Nephi  and  his  brothers  back 
to  Jerusalem  to  the  house  of  Laban 
for  the  record  of  the  Jews  and  also 
a  genealogy  of  Lehi's  ancestors,  en- 
graven upon  plates  of  brass.  Nephi 
did  not  murmur  but  accepted  the 
assignment  willingly.  "For  I  know," 
he  said  to  his  father,  "that  the  Lord 
giveth  no  commandments  unto  the 
children  of  men,  save  he  shall  pre- 
pare a  way  for  them  that  they  may 
accomplish  the  thing  which  he 
commandeth  them"  (I  Nephi  3:7). 
After  many  trying  experiences,  Ne- 
phi, the  real  leader  of  the  group, 
brought  his  brothers  back  into  camp 
with  the  records. 

During  the  long  absence  of  their 
sons  on  this  sacred  mission,  Sariah, 
fearing  that  her  sons  had  perished, 
accused  Lehi  of  being  a  visionary 
man,  saying,  "Behold  thou  hast  led 
us  forth  from  the  land  of  our  in- 
heritance, and  my  sons  are  no  more, 
and  we  perish  in  the  wilderness" 
(I  Nephi  5:2). 

Lehi  comforted  Sariah  telling  her 
that  he  knew  the  Lord  would  de- 
liver their  sons  out  of  the  hands  of 
Laban  and  bring  them  down  again 
into  the  wilderness.  When  they  re- 
turned she  agreed,  "Now  I  know 
of  a  surety,  that  the  Lord  hath  com- 
manded my  husband  to  flee  into 
the  wilderness"  (I  Nephi  5:8). 

Speaking  again  to  Lehi,  the  Lord 
commanded  him  that  his  sons 
should  again  return  to  Jerusalem  to 
bring  down  Ishmael  and  his  family, 

to  join  them  in  the  wilderness,  that 
they  might  raise  up  seed  unto  the 
Lord  in  the  land  of  promise.  Ish- 
mael's  family  consisted  of  his  wife, 
their  five  daughters,  two  sons,  and 
their  families. 

Lehi's  sons  were  successful  in  per- 
suading Ishmael  and  his  family  to 
accompany  them  into  the  wilder- 
ness. After  a  short  rebellion  as 
they  journeyed  in  the  wilderness, 
they  arrived  at  the  tent  of  Lehi, 
ready  to  go  to  the  land  of  promise. 

Shortly  after  the  arrival  of  Ish- 
mael and  his  family,  Lehi  an- 
nounced that  he  had  "dreamed  a 
dream  or,  in  other  words,"  had  seen 
a  vision.  As  a  result  of  this  vision, 
he  said,  he  had  reason  to  rejoice 
over  Sam  and  Nephi,  for  he  felt 
that  they  and  their  seed  would  be 
righteous.  But  he  said  that  he  had 
cause  to  mourn  because  of  Laman 
and  Lemuel.  He  feared  lest  they 
should  be  cast  off  from  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Lord. 

In  his  dream  he  saw  a  dark  and 
dreary  wilderness.  Walking  through 
this  wilderness,  he  prayed  to  the 
Lord.  Soon  he  saw  a  large  and 
spacious  field,  in  which  grew  a  tree, 
the  fruit  of  which  was  desirable  to 
make  one  happy.  Lehi  tasted  the 
fruit  and  was  filled  with  joy.  Cast- 
ing his  eyes  round  about  to  discover 
his  family,  he  beheld  a  river  run- 
ning along  near  the  tree.  Not  far 
off,  he  saw  at  the  head  of  the  stream, 
Sariah,  Sam,  and  Nephi  standing 
as  if  they  knew  not  whither  they 
should  go.  Lehi  beckoned  to  them. 
They  came  to  him  and  partook  of 
the  fruit. 

After  locating  Laman  and  Lem- 
uel, Lehi  invited  them  to  partake 
of  the  fruit, .  but  they  would  not 
come  to  him. 



Lehi  then  observed  that  a  rod  of 
iron  extended  along  the  river  bank 
to  the  tree.  He  also  beheld  a 
straight  and  narrow  path  which 
came  along  by  the  rod  of  iron  even 
to  the  tree.  It  also  led  by  the  head 
of  the  fountain  unto  a  large  and 
spacious  field  as  if  it  had  been  the 
world.  Innumerable  people  were 
pressing  forward,  endeavoring  to 
follow  the  path  to  the  tree.  Be- 
cause of  a  mist  of  darkness,  how- 
ever, many  who  started  on  the  path 
lost  their  way.  Others  caught  hold 
of  the  end  of  the  rod  of  iron,  and 
pressed  forward  through  the  mist 
to  the  tree,  clinging  to  the  rod  of 

When  they  had  partaken  of  the 
fruit,  ■  they  observed  across  the  riv- 
er a  spacious  building  filled  with 
people,  dressed  in  a  manner  ex- 
ceeding fine.  The  people  were 
mocking  and  ridiculing  those  who 
were  eating  the  fruit.  And,  after- 
wards, those  who  had  enjoyed  the 
fruit  were  ashamed  and  fell  away 
into  forbidden  paths  and  were  lost. 
They  did  not  feel  the  import  of  the 
message  and  say  with  Paul,  that 
loyal  and  devoted  follower  of 
Christ  in  a  later  day: 

For  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ:  for  it  is  the  power  of  God  unto 

salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth;  to 
the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek  (Ro- 
mans  1:16). 

Laman  and  Lemuel  were  num- 
bered among  those  who  did  not 
partake  of  the  fruit,  and  Lehi  feared 
concerning  their  welfare.  Lehi,  with 
all  the  feeling  of  a  tender,  loving 
parent,  pleaded  with  them  to  heark- 
en to  his  words,  that  perhaps  the 
Lord  would  be  merciful  to  them, 
and  to  keep  the  commandments  of 

Nephi  later  was  given  an  inter- 
pretation of  this  vision,  recording 
that  the  tree  was  "the  love  of  God 
.  .  .  the  rod  of  iron  .  .  .  was  the  word 
of  God,  which  led  to  the  fountain 
of  living  water,  or  to  the  tree  of 

All  these  visions  were  given  to 
Lehi  during  the  time  of  his  resi- 
dence in  Jerusalem  and  his  encamp- 
ment in  the  valley  of  Lemuel,  by 
the  river  of  Laman.  Truly  he  was  a 
man  of  visions. 

Suggested  Readings 

Monson,   Leland   H.:    Life  in   Ancient 

America,  chapters  2,  and  4-6  inclusive. 

Questions  foi  Discussion 

1.  How  does  God  rule  among  the  na- 

2.  How  can  we  escape  the  mists  of 
darkness  which  Lehi  saw? 

Storm  -  'Merit  LPtne 

his  W.  Schow 

Hold,  while  the  rock  remains  where  you  are  clinging; 

Bend,  if  you  must,  before  the  baleful  blast, 
But  never  yield,  no  matter  what  its  fury, 

And  you  shall  see  it  waste  itself  at  last. 

Though  nearly  spent,  though  torn  of  limb,  though  shaken, 
Stand  by  your  sacred,  self-planned  regimen; 

If  you  survive,  the  hour  will  come  to  offer 
A  nesting  place  where  hope  can  build  again. 

Vtsiting  cJeacher  1 1  tessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  8 -"He  That  Will  Not  Believe  My  Words  Will   Not  Believe 
Me-That  I  Am"  (Ether  4:12) 

Leone  O.  Jacobs 

For  Tuesday,  May  6,  1952 

Objective:  To  show  that  when  one  truly  accepts  Jesus  Christ,  he  accepts  his  words 
as  well. 

FT  is  only  logical  to  presume  that 
if  we  believe  in  Christ,  we  will 
also  believe  his  words.  Likewise 
those  who  do  not  believe  his  words 
do  not  truly  accept  him,  for  he  and 
his  doctrine  are  inseparable.  Belief 
in  Christ  is  equivalent  to  saying, 
"I  believe  that  thou  art,  so  unre- 
servedly I  believe  all  thy  words  also/' 
From  time  to  time  we  hear  peo- 
ple remark  casually,  "Why,  yes,  of 
course  I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ/' 
But  when  this  assertion  is  followed 
by  discussion,  it  may  be  found  that, 
in  reality,  they  do  not  believe  in 
him,  for  they  reject  many  of  his 
teachings.  They  may  say,  "Yes,  I 
believe  that  principle,  but  not  this 
one,"  or  "I  will  accept  that  doctrine 
with  reservation."  This  attitude  be- 
lies the  former  statement  of  belief 
in  Jesus  Christ.  The  two  are  not 

It  is  not  necessary  to  have  indi- 
vidual proof  of  certain  facts  to 
know  that  they  are  so.  A  great  per- 
centage of  the  knowledge  we  have 
concerning  places  and  people  and 
things  comes  to  us  second  hand, 
third  hand,  or  even  more  removed. 
Nor  is  it  practical  for  each  individual 
to  expect  that  ordinary  facts  be 
verified  for  him  personally.  Some 
of  the  information  in  our  sacred 
writings  we  receive  second  hand,  or 

Page  126 

more  removed,  as  well;  but  pertain- 
ing to  spiritual  matters  we  may 
know  personally  by  faith  and 
through  the  operation  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  that  a  certain  doctrine  is 
true,  as  surely  as  we  know  any  other 
undisputed  material  fact.  When  the 
Holy  Ghost  testifies  to  an  individual 
that  the  words  of  Christ  are  true,  he 
knows  they  are,  just  as  surely  as 
though  Jesus  himself  came  to  him 
personally  and  told  him  so.  An  in- 
teresting statement  regarding  such 
knowledge  was  made  by  Warren 
Weaver,  Director  for  the  Natural 
Sciences  in  the  Rockefeller  Founda- 
tion, in  the  October  1950  issue  of 
Scientific  American.  He  declared: 
"It  is  rather  surprisingly  the  case 
that  the  only  time  man  is  ever  real- 
ly sure  is  not  when  he  is  dealing 
with  science,  but  when  he  is  dealing 
with  matters  of  faith." 

Human  beings  are  so  constituted 
that  when  they  entertain  an  atti- 
tude demanding  proof  that  certain 
doctrine  is  true,  they  bar  themselves 
from  receiving  the  firm  testimony 
that  can  come  from  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Individual  revelation  comes 
when  there  is  a  desire  to  find  the 
truth.  "Seek  and  ye  shall  find,  knock 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you," 
said  Jesus.    Never  did  he  say,  "Re- 



sist,  and  ye  shall  know.    Reject  and  Faith  is  a  wonderful  gift  from 

criticize,  and  ye  shall  know."  The  God  to  those  who  diligently  seek 

humble  searching  of  an  honest  heart  it.    Through  it  one  may  know  that 

will  be  answered  by  the  unshakable  Jesus  is  the  Christ  and  that  all  the 

testimony  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  words  he  has  spoken  are  true, 

vi/ork    1 1 Leettng — Sewing 

The  Art  of  Mending 

(A  Course  for  Optional  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  8— Linens  and  Household  Articles 

Jean  Ridges  Jennings 

For  Tuesday,  May  13,  1952 

(Textbook:  The  Complete  Book  of  Sewing,  by  Constance  Talbot) 

A  good  homemaker  will  be  just  as 
diligent  in  repairing  worn  areas 
that  occur  in  household  textiles  as 
those  in  clothing.  It  is  thrifty  and 
necessary  to  keep  linens  and  other 
articles  in  good  repair. 

A  careful  survey  should  be  made 
at  regular  intervals  to  check  up  on 
the  condition  of  table  linen,  sheets, 
pillow  cases,  towels,  bedspreads,  and 
bath  mats.  Much  time  and  effort 
can  be  saved  by  catching  worn  areas 
before  they  break  into  holes  or  tears. 
By  making  reinforcements  early,  you 
may  save  an  article  that  you  could 
not  replace. 

Blankets  are  always  worth  any 
extra  time  you  spend  in  prolonging 
their  life.  When  bindings  wear 
out,  rip  off  the  ragged,  worn,  parts 
and  replace  them  with  new  bind- 
ings. This  will  prevent  tears  from 
starting.  You  may  buy  material 
and  make  your  own,  or  use  that 
already  prepared  and  sold  in  bolts 
at  notions  counters.  It  comes  in  a 
variety  of  colors,  both  cotton  and 
rayon.  If  the  blanket  is  not  worth 
a  new  binding,  strengthen  the  ends 

with  a  blanket  stitch  finish  after 
first  stitching  a  couple  of  times  on 
the  machine  to  give  strength. 

Watch  bath  towels  for  the  first 
sign  of  fraying  on  the  selvage.  Ar- 
rest the  wear  here  by  turning  under 
the  edge  once  and  stitching  two  or 
three  times  on  the  machine.  Darn 
small  holes  in  terry  bath  towels  with 
darning  cotton,  using  a  plain  darn. 

Repair  terry  bath  mats  the  same 
way  as  you  would  towels  unless  the 
worn  part  is  near  the  edge.  In  this 
case,  cut  off  the  worn  part  and  bind 
the  new  edge  with  twilled  tape. 

When  bedspreads  need  mending, 
patching  material  can  be  taken 
from  the  corners  at  the  foot  or  from 
the  end  of  an  extra  long  spread. 
On  tufted  or  chenille  spreads 
straight  tears  can  be  drawn  together 
with  an  overhand  stitch.  Then  put 
in  new  tufts  and  the  mend  will 
scarcely  show.  In  the  absence  of 
matching  tufting  yarn,  six  strand 
embroidery  floss  will  do. 

When  patches  are  used  either  on 
lace  or  tufted  spreads,  set  in  patches 
that  match  the  pattern  as  nearly  as 



Sheets  wear  thin  in  the  center 
while  the  outside  edges  are  still 
strong.  You  can  give  your  torn 
sheets  a  new  lease  on  life  when 
they  tear  in  the  center  by  splitting 
them  down  the  middle  and  seaming 
the  outside  edges  together,  along 
the  selvage.  Lap  one  edge  over  the 
other  and  stitch  twice  to  form  a 
flat  seam.  Make  small  hems  on  the 
outside  edges. 

If  small  holes  or  tears  appear  in 
sheets  or  pillow  cases,  mend  them 
at  once  with  set  in  patches  that  are 
stitched  in  place  on  the  machine. 
When  hems  split  along  the  fold, 
trim  off  frayed  edges,  turn  them  in 
and  overhand  the  two  together.  Or 
rip  off  the  old  hem,  cut  off  along 
the  old  fold,  and  turn  a  new  hem. 

When  pillowcases  are  worn  along 
the  side  folds,  rip  out  the  end  hem 
where  it  crosses  the  folds.  Now  take 
a  seam  deep  enough  to  take  out  the 
worn  edge,  then  restitch  the  hem. 

Mend  small  holes  in  linen  table- 
cloths or  napkins  with  threads  from 
the  linen  of  the  same  cloth  even  if 
you  have  to  sacrifice  a  napkin  to 

get  them.  For  patching  larger 
holes,  take  patching  material  from 
a  napkin  or  an  old  cloth  of  similar 
weight  and  color.  If  the  patch 
comes  in  a  suitable  place,  disguise 
it  by  working  a  pattern  or  mono- 
gram over  it.  It  then  becomes  a 
design  instead  of  a  blemish. 

When  hemstitching  breaks  on 
linens  make  new  "spokes,"  to  re- 
place the  broken  ones,  with  a 
needle  and  thread.  Long  sections 
of  worn  or  broken  hemstitching  can 
be  replaced  with  fagotting.  In  some 
cases  small  rickrack  can  be  inserted 
to  replace  the  hemstitching. 

When  lace  or  marquisette  cur- 
tains split  lengthwise,  weave  in  new 
threads.  Darned  places  rarely  show 
in  full  curtains  as  they  lie  in  the 
folds  when  hanging.  If  the  holes 
are  near  the  edge,  trim  off  the 
damaged  part  and  put  in  a  new 
hem.  On  some  narrow  curtains  an 
added  ruffle  of  net  or  a  contrasting 
applied  hem  makes  a  suitable  addi- 
tion when  torn  parts  need  to  be 
cut  away,  thus  adding  new  life  to 
your  curtains. 

JLttemture — The  Literature  of  England 

Lesson  24— William  Wordsworth  (concluded) 
Elder  Biiant  S.  Jacobs 

For  Tuesday,  May  20,  1952 

^PHE  aim  of  our  last  lesson  was  to 
introduce  Wordsworth  and 
some  of  the  ideas  and  personalities 
which  helped  build  his  philosophy 
as  revealed  in  some  of  his  earlier 
poems.  In  this  lesson  we  shall  at- 
tempt to  point  out  further  elements 
in  his  poetry  which  prove  him  to  be 
a  fitting  spokesman  for  the  essential 
English  spirit,  elements  which  en- 

title him  to  be  regarded  not  only  as 
one  of  the  early  and  great  forces  in 
English  romanticism,  but  as  one  of 
her  greatest  poet-philosophers. 

It  has  been  justly  observed  of  the 
nineteenth-century  English  writers 
that  one  difficulty  in  coming  to 
know  them  is  that  many  of  them 
simply  wrote  too  much.  Words- 
worth is  not  free  from  such  criti- 



asm,  although  it  seems  somewhat 
absurd  to  censure  an  author  for 
writing  a  large  body  of  works  which 
are  of  highest  merit,  regardless  of 
how  much  he  wrote  of  inferior  qual- 
ity. Yet  the  practical  problem  re- 
mains of  presenting  the  remaining 
pages  of  Wordsworth's  work  in  our 
text  in  a  manner  most  valuable  to 
the  Relief  Society  class  leader  and 
her  class,  and  at  the  same  time  in  a 
manner  most  economical  of  time 
and  effort. 

Admitting  this  problem,  but  at 
the  same  time  believing  that  there 
are  very  few  lines  in  Wordsworth 
which  are  so  difficult  as  not  to  be 
understood  on  a  careful  first  read- 
ing, we  shall  attempt  to  intensify 
the  rewards  of  reading  certain  se- 
lections from  Wordsworth  by  point- 
ing out  certain  values  within  them, 
thus  narrowing  down  more  quickly 
the  selections  the  class  leader  might 
wish  finally  to  present  in  some  de- 
tail to  her  group. 

Our  study  of  the  Preface  to  Lyric- 
al Ballads  in  our  previous  lesson  re- 
vealed Wordsworth's  new  romantic 
principles  of  freedom  to  choose  po- 
etic form  and  word  to  make  his 
poems  as  simple  and  unadorned  as 
the  common  man  in  the  street.  An- 
other great  romantic  principle,  il- 
lustrated throughout  his  poems,  is 
to  be  found  in  the  lyrical,  subjective 
mood  and  point  of  view  which 
dominates  his  works.  Regardless  of 
what  his  announced  subject  may  be, 
nor  how  simple  or  even  childish  it 
may  at  first  appear,  Wordsworth 
colors  and  strengthens  and  enlarges 
the  most  trivial  subject  into  a  pro- 
found revelation  of  human  wisdom 
and  insight.  His  method  is  always 
to  answer  the  problems  of  reality  by 

probing  deep  within  himself,  and 
when  he  is  successful  in  arranging 
his  delightful  and  profound  findings 
in  an  artistic  form  compatible  with 
the  inner  idea  he  would  express,  we 
have  another  great  poem  produced. 

It  is  therefore  fitting,  and  not  at 
all  accidental,  that  Wordsworth 
should  have  written  the  greatest  and 
most  revealing  autobiographical 
poem  in  our  language.  Begun  in 
1799  and  completed  in  1805  (al- 
though not  published  until  after 
his  death  in  1850),  "The  Prelude" 
is  the  philosophical  poem  which  re- 
sulted when  Wordsworth  retired  to 
the  remote  lake  district  determined 
to  write  "a  literary  work  that  might 
live";  he  sought  in  this  work  "to 
record,  in  verse,  the  origin  and  prog- 
ress of  his  own  powers,  as  far  as 
he  was  acquainted  with  them."  The 
fourteen  books  into  which  the  poem 
is  divided  contain  a  detailed  account 
of  his  inner  awareness  during  his 
schooldays  and  childhood,  his  tours 
of  Europe,  his  disillusionment  dur- 
ing the  French  Revolution,  finally 
recounting  how  he  was  restored  to 
an  increasing  love  of  humanity  by 
the  sustaining  influence  of  nature. 

Traditionally  Wordsworth  is  her- 
alded as  the  "poet-priest"  of  na- 
ture. The  realm  of  the  out-of-doors 
is  his  constant  subject,  but  his 
theme  is  not  nature  for  its  own  sake 
alone,  but  rather  what  it  does  for 
man— specifically  for  Wordsworth 
himself.  While  the  two  out  of  the 
fourteen  books  in  our  text  contain 
many  real  and  delightful  descrip- 
tions of  Wordsworth's  joy  as  a  child 
when  surrounded  by  nature  (an 
autumn  day,  page  126,  1.  59  ff;  a 
naked  child's  romping  in  the  river, 
page  129,  1.   282  ff;  robbing  birds' 



nests,  page  130, 1.  326  ff;  etc.),  these 
passages  describing  the  joys  of  na- 
ture are  interspersed  with  poetized 
philosophizing,  with  wondering  at 
the  mysteries  of  nature  and  her  ef- 
fects upon  the  delicate  soul  of  the 
growing  boy.  For  example,  in  the 
opening  lines  he  describes  the  liber- 
ating breeze  of  the  country  air,  but 
really  he  is  moved,  not  by  the  breeze, 
but  by  the  remembrance  of  the  joy 
which  it  aroused  within  him:    • 

Oh,  there  is  blessing  in  this  gentle  breeze, 
A  visitant  that  while  it  fans  my  cheek 
Doth   seem   half-conscious   of   the   joy   it 

From    the    green    fields,    and    from    yon 

azure  sky. 
Whate'er  its  mission,  the  soft  breeze  can 

To  none  more  grateful  than  to  me;  escaped 
From  the  vast  city,  where  I  long  had  pined 
A  discontented  sojourner:  now  free, 
Free  as  a  bird  to  settle  where  I  will  .... 
The  earth  is  all  before  me.  With  a  heart 
Joyous,  nor  scared  at  its  own   liberty, 
I  look  about;  and  should  the  chosen  guide 
Be  nothing  better  than  a  wandering  cloud, 
I  cannot  miss  my  way.  I  breathe  again! 
Trances  of  thought  and  mountings  of  the 

Come  fast  upon  me:  it  is  shaken  off, 
That  burthen  of  my  own  unnatural  self, 
The  heavy  weight  of  many  a  weary  day 
Not  mine  ....  (pp.  125-126) 

It  is  these  sublime  musings, 
prompted  by  some  scene  or  intimate 
beauty  in  nature,  which  give  to 
Wordsworth  the  elevated  grandeur 
which  is  the  unmistakable  signature 
of  great  poetry,  a  flavor  which  we 
have  already  found  to  be  overwhelm- 
ing in  his  "Tintern  Abbey,"  and 
which  recalls  the  majesty  and  vast- 
ness  of  Milton,  whom  Wordsworth 
loved  and  respected.  In  this  first 
book  from  'The  Prelude,"  as 
throughout  all  his  best  poetry,  we 
find  such  passages.  He  philosophizes 

about  liberty  (page  126,  beginning 
line  31);  he  states  the  unrest  of 
youth,  and  the  nebulous  desire  to 
achieve  grandly  in  mortality  (page 
127,  line  94  ff.);  confessing  the  in- 
ward conflicts  of  adolescence,  he 
feels,  as  far  better  than  his  restless- 
ness, the  need 

...  to  stray  about 
Voluptuously    through    fields    and    rural 

And  ask  no  record  of  the  hours,  resigned 
To  vacant  musing,  unreproved  neglect 
Of  all  things,  and  deliberate  holiday. 

(text,  page  129,  lines  250-254) 

On  page  1 30,  beginning  line  340, 
he  acknowledges  the  growth  of  im- 
mortal spirit  within  him  "Like  har- 
mony in  music";  on  page  131,  line 
401,  he  begins  a  passage  of  moving 
beauty  and  power  in  which  he  ex- 
presses gratitude  for  the  human  soul 
and  the  thrill  of  feeling  its  being 
purified  within  by  acquaintance 
with  nature. 

There  are  abundant  similar  pas- 
sages—so abundant  that  many  read- 
ers have  become  bewildered  by  the 
enmassed  fruitfulness  of  Words- 
worth's imagination  and  insight  and 
left  "The  Prelude"  as  too  big  to 
read.  Such  a  decision  is  unfortu- 
nate, for  this  poem  is  the  pure 
fountainhead  from  which  the  best 
of  Wordsworth  flows  into  lines  of 
mellow  blank  verse  expressing  his 
tender  sensitivity  of  the  human 
spirit;  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of 
joy  he  finds  in  living  the  simple, 
natural  life;  and  showing  the  rare 
skill  with  which  he  recalls  the  long- 
lost  nuances  of  his  growing  mind 
and  soul  as  he  feels  their  awakening 

Note  to  Class  Leaders: 

"The  Prelude"  is  fundamental  to  all  of 



Wordsworth's  other  writings,  and  con- 
tains the  germ  of  all  else.  If  you  decide 
to  use  parts  of  it  in  your  lesson,  remember 
that  intensive  study  is  memorable  and 
real.  Applying  Wordsworth's  final  ad- 
vice in  the  Preface,  read  aloud  until  your 
own  heart  tells  you  that  which  is  vital 
and  beautifully  done;  here  is  material 
which  your  sisters  will  be  grateful  for 
hearing   from   your   lips. 

"Michael"  is  a  happy  combina- 
tion of  content  and  form,  although 
it  does  contain  a  few  lines  of  exalted 
cadence  but  trivial  content  which 
was  one  of  Wordsworth's  stylistic 
weaknesses.  For  example,  he  de- 
scribes the  lamp  as 

An  aged  utensil,  which  had  performed 
Service  beyond  all  others  of  its  kind. 

The  strength  of  his  writing  in 
this  poem  lies  in  the  fact  that  the 
lines  themselves  catch  the  simplicity 
of  Michael's  way  of  life;  they  also 
incarnate  his  industry,  noble  charac- 
ter, and  wholesome  ideals.  Here  is  a 
tale  centering  about  the  unbounded 
love  of  father  for  son,  and  how, 
after  the  wayward  son  succumbs  to 
the  wickedness  of  the  city,  the  aged 
father  seeks  solace  in  work  and  in 
the  strengthening  influence  of  na- 
ture. This  poem  has  a  slow-moving, 
solemn  beauty  all  its  own,  but  it 
records  traits  basic  both  in  Words- 
worth and  in  the  essential  English 

In  "Michael"  as  in  several  of  his 
poems— "Resolution  and  Independ- 
ence"; "London,  1802";  "The 
World  Is  Too  Much  With  Us"; 
"Thoughts  of  a  Briton  on  the  Sub- 
jugation of  Switzerland";  we  find 
the  strongly  romantic  concern  for 
the  rights  of  man  as  they  are  warped, 
sometimes  annihilated,  by  a  social 
and  political  system  which  Words- 

worth fears  loves  luxury  and  wealth 
more  than  it  loves  virtue,  and  which 
exerts  an  autocratic  power  at  the 
expense  of  its  subjects'  liberty.  In 
the  person  of  the  Leechgatherer  in 
"Resolution  and  Independence"  we 
find  personified  a  gross  indifference, 
almost  a  cruelty,  of  nature  in  hav- 
ing created  so  misshapen  a  creature 
who,  living  amid  the  usually  bene- 
ficent surroundings  of  nature,  is 
not  protected  by  her  from  the  eco- 
nomic necessity  of  men.  This  is  not 
a  strong  note  in  Wordsworth's 
work,  but  it  is  a  constant  one,  and 
displays  a  respect  for  realism  and 
the  sterner  aspects  of  life  which 
strengthens  his  stature  as  a  romantic 

Aside  from  Tennyson's  "Crossing 
the  Bar,"  the  fifth  stanza  of  Words- 
worth's "Ode  on  Intimations  of  Im- 
mortality from  Recollentions  of 
Early  Childhood"  is  possibly  quoted 
at  more  funerals  than  any  other 
poem,  and  not  without  justification: 

Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting: 
The  Soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  Star, 

Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar: 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 

From  God,  who  is  our  home: 
Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy! 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  Boy, 
But  he  beholds  the  light,  and  whence  it 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy; 
The  Youth,  who  daily  farther  from  the  east 

Must  travel,  still  is  Nature's  priest, 

And  by  the  vision  splendid 

Is  on  his  way  attended; 
At  length  the  Man  perceives  it  die  away, 
And  fade  into  the  light  of  common  day. 

Particularly  the  first  half  of  the 
stanza    lends    itself    to    quotation, 


since  it  is  short,  contains  a  brilliant  does  Wordsworth  wish  to  proclaim 
image  which  most  aptly  expresses  his  belief  in  immortality,  but  he  de- 
the  thought,  and  gives  memorable  sires  even  more  to  emphasize  the 
statement  to  the  reality  of  im-  near  immortal  state  that  is  the  awe- 
mortality.  But  fitting  as  this  quota-  inspiring  mystery  of  childhood.  In 
tion  has  proved  itself  on  such  oc-  parts  nine  and  ten  he  comes  as  near 
casions,  it  is  unfair  and  unfortunate,  catching  the  pure  innocent  joy  of 
both  to  poet  and  audience,  that  this  youth  as  did  Blake  in  his  Songs  of 
one  passage  is  so  often  lifted  from  Innocence.  Indeed  the  two  poets 
its  context  to  become  a  unity  of  it-  have  much  in  common,  not  the  least 
self  alone.  of  which  is  their  abilities  so  to  corn- 
Granted  that  the  above  statement  mune  with  the  very  real  other- 
is  somewhat  extreme,  it  does,  none-  worldliness  that  the  beauty  of  their 
theless,  seem  advisable  to  lift  stanza  vision  lights  up  their  lines  and  their 
five  from  the  "Ode  on  Intimations  words  attain  a  texture  and  a  sus- 
of  Immortality"  in  order  that  this  tained  loftiness  rarely  heard. 

section  may  be  read  by  all  Relief  Suggestions  for  Discussion 

society  women   in   the  hope  that 

they  will  thoughtfully,  sympathet-      .'*•  Disc"ss  evidence  that  Wordsworth 

is3  romantic 
ically,  read  the  poem  in  its  entirety.         2    what  was  his  purpose  in  writing 

Only  then  can  one  experience  the  'The  Prelude"? 

full  flavor  of  Wordsworth's  tone  and  3-   Is  Wordsworth  a  poet  or  a  phil- 

mood;  serene,  delicate,  large.  Only  osopher?  Can  these  be  combined? 

m         j         ,i_      j              .        °,      r  . i  4-  Why  might  portions  or    Ode  on  In- 

then  does  the  deeper  intent  of  the  tin7ations  of  Immortality"  be  compared  to 

poem  become  apparent:   not  only  the  poetry  of  Blake? 

Social  Science— The  Progress  of  Man 

Part  2— From  Darkness  Into  Dawn 

Lesson  14— The  American  Revolution 

Elder  Archibald  F.  Bennett 

(Text:  The  Piogiess  of  Man,  by  Elder  Joseph  Fielding  Smith, 

chapter  24.) 

For  Tuesday,  May  27,  1952 

Objective:  To  give  underlying  reasons  for  the  American  colonists  breaking  away 
nom  the  mother  country;  and  to  show  that  they  were  aided  by  the  power  of  God  in 
validating  their  Declaration  of  Independence. 

Political  Fieedom  in  due  the  wilderness.    They  were  of 

American  Colonies  a   roaming   disposition,   and   their 

rPHE  discovery  of  America  brought  country   had    many   difficulties   in 

to     Europe     many     problems  making  permanent  settlements  on 

which  had  not  existed  before    The  this  account.    The  French  were  not 

French  colonists  had  no  disposition  permitted  in  any  sense  to  conduct 

to  build  permanent  homes  and  sub-  their  own  political  affairs.     France 



sent  out  officials  to  govern  them 
and  they  were  denied  any  voice  in 
the  matter.  A  similar  attitude  was 
taken  by  Spain. 

The  English  colonists,  however, 
came  to  this  land  with  the  firm  con- 
viction that  they  had  rights  which 
had  been  guaranteed  them  since 
the  days  of  the  Magna  Charta,  and 
that  these  rights  were  constitution- 
al. In  political  matters  the  thir- 
teen English  colonies  had  consider- 
able freedom.  In  fact  they  claimed 
all  the  rights  which  were  granted 
to  the  English  people  at  home, 
these  rights  included  trial  by  jury, 
freedom  of  speech,  freedom  of  the 
press,  freedom  from  imprisonment 
without  trial,  the  right  of  habeas 
corpus,  and  other  privileges  em- 
bodied in  the  English  common  law. 
They  had  the  privilege  of  organ- 
izing houses  of  representatives  and 
smaller  houses  or  councils,  similar 
to  the  English  Parliament.  In  this 
way  they  were  enabled  to  make  laws 
to  govern  themselves  as  long  as  they 
did  not  conflict  with  the  laws  of 
Parliament  and  the  government  at 
home.  Such  privileges  were  not  ex- 
tended to  colonists  under  any  other 

The  English  colonists  held  that 
they  should  not  be  taxed  without 
proper  voice  in  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment, and  that  they  had  the  right 
to  elect  their  own  representatives. 
The  English  king  and  Parliament 
felt  that  they  had  a  perfect  right 
to  tax  and  restrict  the  colonists. 

With  the  French  and  Spanish 
such  treatment  seemed  to  be  only 
natural,  they  understood  nothing 
else,  but  not  so  with  the  English. 
Since  the  days  of  King  John  they 
had  been  trained  to  have  high  re- 
gard for  the  personal  rights  guaran- 

teed them  in  the  British  law.  Why, 
they  felt,  should  colonists  be  con- 
sidered different  in  any  respect  from 
British  subjects  who  were  within 
the  shires  and  counties  of  Great 

Restrictions  on  Commerce 

Regarding  commerce  and  trade, 
the  views  held  in  all  the  European 
countries  towards  their  specific 
colonies  were  similar.  These  views 
were  that  the  colonies  existed  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  benefit  to  the 
mother  countries.  According  to 
English  law  the  home  markets  had 
a  claim  upon  all  the  products  com- 
ing from  the  colonies.  Such  trade 
had  to  be  carried  in  English  boats 
and  delivered  at  English  ports.  The 
law  followed  the  mercantile  theory 
which  was  formed  to  protect  the 
home  manufacturers.  The  grants  ex- 
tended to  explorers  and  early  colon- 
izers were  based  on  the  demand 
that  definite  jurisdiction  should  be 
maintained  bv  the  homeland. 

In  this  regard,  England  was  no 
worse,  and,  in  some  respects,  much 
better  than  other  countries  claim- 
ing territory  in  the  New  World. 
The  colonists  were  expected  to  pro- 
duce needed  raw  materials,  but  such 
materials  must  not  compete  in  any 
way  with  products  made  at  home. 
They  could  not  build  up  manu- 
facturing establishments  because 
such  ventures  would  injure  the  busi- 
ness of  manufacturers  in  the  moth- 
er country.  The  colonists  of  one 
country  were  forbidden  to  trade 
with  the  colonists  of  another,  or 
with  other  countries.  Moreover,  as 
the  colonists  were  expected  to  furn- 
ish raw  materials  to  their  native 
land,  they  were  also  expected  to 
purchase  the  finished  products  from 



her.  Because  of  these  restrictions, 
they  were  forbidden  to  launch  out 
in  an  enterprise  not  approved  by 
the  home  government. 

Religious  Attitudes 

France  and  Spain  admitted  only 
Catholics  to  the  American  colonies, 
while  the  majority  of  the  English 
colonists  were  Protestants  and  some 
belonged  to  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. Except  in  the  colony  found- 
ed by  Roger  Williams,  real  religious 
freedom  did  not  exist.  After  the 
death  of  Roger  Williams  ia  1683, 
the  regulations  which  he  established 
were  greatly  modified  so  that  Rom- 
an Catholics  were  disfranchised  as 
late  as  the  eighteenth  century. 

Why  the  Colonies  Rebelled 

The  rebellion  against  the  English 
government  on  the  part  of  the 
American  colonies  was  not  brought 
about  because  they  were  more 
harshly  treated  than  were  other 
colonists,  but  occurred  because  the 
English  people  had  been  differently 
trained.  They  felt  the  injustice  of 
treatment  accorded  them  by  the 
mother  country,  denying  to  them 
political  rights,  taxing  without 
proper  representation,  and  restrict- 
ing freedom  of  trade  and  com- 
merce. They  resented  the  edict  of 
the  home  government  that  they 
were  not  to  manufacture,  but  only 
to  furnish  raw  materials;  then,  when 
the  raw  materials  were  made  up 
into  salable  goods,  they  resented 
buying  them  at  excessive  rates  and 
paying  a  tax  in  addition.  In  this 
attitude  toward  the  colonies,  the 
British  government  perhaps  had 
no  thought  of  being  unjust  or  un- 
fair. It  was  a  matter  of  thinking 
that  the  colonists  were  in  America 

simply  to  serve  as  a  financial  bene- 
fit to  the  British  nation. 

This  treatment  by  the  home  gov- 
ernment irritated  the  colonists. 
When  they  began  to  show  their  ir- 
ritation, members  of  the  British 
government  in  power  at  home 
showed  resentment,  and  thus  the 
breach  was  widened  until  reparation 
could  not  be  made. 

At  the  time  of  the  rebellion 
against  the  English,  Great  Britain 
was  at  war  with  Franch,  Spain,  and 
Holland;  and  hostile  neutrals  were 
harassing  her.  When  she  endeav- 
ored, because  of  the  cost  of  war,  to 
place  heavy  burdens  upon  the 
colonists  and  tax  them  without  rep- 
resentation, they  protested  and  vig- 
orously petitioned  for  relief  from 
the  burdens  they  felt  were  unjust. 
When  their  protests  and  appeals 
failed  and  they  became  subject  to 
military  rule  and  were  forced  to 
take  care  of  the  military  forces, 
and  when  their  civil  liberty  was 
threatened,  their  ports  closed,  and 
undue  pressure  brought  to  bear 
against  them  for  rebellion,  they 
rose  up  in  their  might  and  the  Revo- 
lution was  on.  'The  king,"  wrote 
Jefferson,  "has  plundered  our  seas, 
ravaged  our  coasts,  burnt  our  towns 
and  destroyed  our  people." 

The  Power  oi  God 
Was  With  Them 

Looking  back  to  1775  and  the 
years  preceding  and  following, 
when  the  American  government 
was  in  the  travail  of  birth,  it  is  plain 
to  see  that  the  Lord  was  keeping 
his  promise  and  fighting  the  battles 
of  the  colonists.  It  was  the  decree 
of  the  Almighty  that  American  land 
should  be  free,  and  that  here  po- 
litical, as  well  as  religious  liberty, 



should  have  a  rebirth.  If  circum- 
stances had  not  been  right  for  the 
revolution,  the  colonists  would 
have  had  a  more  difficult  time  in 
winning  their  independence.  In 
the  days  of  wooden  sailing  vessels, 
America  was  too  far  away  for  a  suc- 
cessful campaign  on  the  part  of  the 
British.  The  colonists  were  weak 
and  they  were  taxed  to  the  limit  of 
their  powers  to  maintain  them- 
selves. Even  with  all  the  wars  and 
difficulties  Great  Britain  was  then 
encountering,  had  the  Lord  not 
been  fighting  on  the  side  of  the 
-Americans,  they  would  have  failed. 
The  result  of  the  conflict  was 
more  far  reaching  than  was  generally 
supposed.  The  freedom  of  the 
United  States  and  the  establishing 
of  a  republic  in  this  Western  Land 
were  incentives  to  other  peoples 
upon  the  shores  of  America.  The 
Lord  intended  that  they  should  all 
be  free  from  political  intrigues  and 
domination  of  the  Old  World,  for 
this  was  to  be  a  land  of  liberty  un- 
to the  Gentiles  as  long  as  they 
would  serve  the  Lord  and  be  hum- 
ble. Had  the  English  king,  George 
III,  and  his  Parliament  hearkened 
to  the  voice  of  protest  from  the 
American  colonists,  and  the  voices 
of  some  statesmen  at  home,  such 
as  Edmund  Burke,  the  whole  trend 
of  history  in  the  New  World  might 
have  taken  a  very  different  course. 
But  such  was  not  the  destiny  of 
things.  Had  it  not  been  so,  who 
can  tell  what  would  have  happened 
to  religious  and  political  freedom 
which  has-  since  been  proclaimed, 
not  only  in  America,  but  has  had  its 
influence  in  many  other  parts  of  the 

The  Declaration  of  Independence 
The  war  knit  the  colonies  togeth- 

er in  a  common  cause.  At  the  out- 
break of  hostilities,  the  several 
American  states  or  territories  had 
various  forms  of  government.  Con- 
necticut and  Rhode  Island  held 
charters  entitling  them  to  manage 
their  own  affairs.  Eight  of  them 
were  under  governors  appointed  by 
the  king.  Pennsylvania,  Delaware, 
and  Maryland  were  governed  by 
their  proprietors,  successors  to 
those  who  had  originally  received 
grants.  Each  of  the  colonies  had  a 
legislative  assembly;  they  levied 
their  own  taxes  and  had  the  chief 
voice  in  the  making  of  their  laws. 

While,  at  first,  they  did  not  seek 
separation  from  the  mother  coun- 
try, as  the  trouble  progressed,  they 
determined  that  no  other  course 
was  open  to  them— and  finally  they 
were  fighting  for  complete  inde- 
pendence and  the  right  to  establish 
a  government  of  their  own. 

In  June  1776,  Richard  Henry 
Lee  of  Virginia  offered  this  resolu- 
tion to  the  Continental  Congress: 

Resolved:  that  these  United  Colonies 
are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  Free  and 
Independent  States,  that  they  are  ab- 
solved from  all  allegiance  to  the  British 
Crown,  and  that  all  political  connection 
between  them  and  Great  Britain  is  and 
ought  to  be,  totally  dissolved. 

A  committee  of  five  was  desig- 
nated to  prepare  a  statement  of  the 
American  cause.  The  committee 
appointed  Thomas  Jefferson,  as  one 
of  its  members,  to  draft  a  declara- 
tion. Except  for  minor  alterations 
the  Declaration  was  wholly  Jeffer- 
son's in  both  word  and  spirit. 

On  July  2,  the  Lee  resolution  was 
adopted,  and  the  Declaration  was 
introduced  and  debated  in  Congress. 
Some  changes  were  made  during 
the  debate,  the  most  important  be- 



ing  the  omission  of  a  passage  that 
denounced  King  George  for  pro- 
moting the  African  slave  trade.  On 
the  fourth  day  of  July,  1776,  the 
Declaration  was  adopted  by  the 
Congress,  and  later  it  was  signed 
by  the  members  of  Congress.  Thus, 
by  legal  act  of  representatives  of 
her  people,  the  Government  of  the 
United  States  of  America  was  born. 

This  government  is  not  the  gov- 
ernment which  will  be  set  up  when 
Christ  comes  to  rule.  The  Lord 
expects  great  things  of  this  Ameri- 
can nation,  however,  in  assisting  to 
bring  to  pass  his  purpose  of  prepar- 
ing for  the  ushering  in  of  the  king- 
dom of  God.  When  that  time 
comes,  the  Prince  of  Peace  will  take 
his  rightful  place  as  God  and  Gov- 
ernor of  all  the  earth. 

Thoughts  ioi  Discussion 

1.  Describe  the  mercantile  theory  of 
commerce  believed  in  prior  to  the  Revo- 
lutionary War. 

2.  Compare  the  American  colonists  of 

England   with    those   of   other   European 

3.  Name  three  important  differences 
between  the  colonists  and  the  mother 
country  of  England. 

4.  Name  some  outstanding  principles 
enunciated  in  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 

5.  Why  did  Emerson  describe  the  Bat- 
tle of  Concord  as  "the  shot  heard  round 
the  world?" 

6.  Cite  evidences  to  show  that  the 
power  of  God  was  with  the  colonists. 

7.  Consider  this  forceful  declaration 
by  President  Brigham  Young:  "There  is 
not  another  nation  under  heaven,  in 
whose  midst  the  Book  of  Mormon  could 
have  been  brought  forth.  The  Lord  has 
been  operating  for  centuries  to  prepare 
the  way  for  the  coming  forth  of  the  con- 
tents of  that  Book  from  the  bowels  of 
the  earth.  ...  It  was  the  Lord  who  di- 
rected the  discovery  of  this  land  to  the 
nations  of  the  Old  World,  and  its  settle- 
ment, and  the  war  for  independence,  and 
the  final  victory  of  the  colonies,  and  the 
unprecedented  prosperity  of  the  Ameri- 
can nation,  up  to  the  calling  of  Joseph 
the  Prophet.  The  Lord  has  dictated  and 
directed  the  whole  of  this,  for  the  bring- 
ing forth,  and  establishing  of  his  King- 
dom in  the  last  days"  (Discourses  of 
Brigham  Young,  1925  edition,  page  167; 
1941  and  1943  editions,  page  109). 


ustc — Fundamentals  of  Musicianship 

Appreciation,  Conducting,  Singing,  and  Accompanying 
Lessons  for  Union  Meetings  for  1951-52 

Lesson  16— Joy  and  Service  Through  Singing  and  Playing;  Things  We 
Should  Know  About  Music;  the  Value  of  Music  in  Everyday  Life 

Florence  Jeppeison  Madsen 

Objective:  To  expand  our  understanding  and  appreciation  of  music;  to  render  more 
efficient  service  through  participation  in  music. 

Joy  and  Service  Through 
Singing  and  Playing 

"Those  whose  love  and  knowledge  of 
music  will  enable  them  not  only  to  re- 
ceive but  also  to  give  will  always  be  the 
happiest.  For  music,  being  harmony,  is 
a  companionable  art;  and  activity  in  music 
carries    with    it    one   of    the   greatest   en- 

joyments which  people  can  have"  (hlric 
Clarke,  Music  in  Everyday  Life). 

Participation  is  the  door  to  success  and 
joy  in  any  musical  activity. 

The  organist,  who  gives  the  first  wel- 
coming tones  in  an  assembly,  and  the 
conductor,  who  leads  the  audience  or  the 
chorus   in    a    song,    realize    that    they    are 



contributing  to  the  success  of  the  service, 
and  that  it  is  within  their  power  to  in- 
still in  the  hearts  of  the  participants  a 
spirit  of  unity,  peace,  and  reverence.  This 
realization  brings  to  them  a  sense  of 
deepest  joy. 

The  members  of  a  congregation  who 
sing  together  have  the  feeling  of  belong- 
ing and,  through  their  singing,  attune 
themselves  to  the  spiritual  joy  of  the  oc- 

The  missionary  who  makes  use  of  his 
musical  talents  experiences,  through  this 
added  power  of  service,  greater  spiritual- 
ity and  joy  in  his  work. 

Things  We  Should  Know  About  Music 
Historical  Facts 

The  earliest  musical  experiments  of 
man  were  in  the  realm  of  rhythm.  This 
was  first  done  by  tapping  or  beating  on 
wood  or  other  hard  materials,  by  clap- 
ping the  hands,  or  by  stamping  the  feet. 

Music  history  records  that  about  900 
or  1000  a.d.,  the  simple  harmonization 
of  melody  came  into  existence  and  use. 
Previous  to  that  time  music  history  re- 
cords that  it  was  performed  in  unison 
and  was  learned  by  "rote." 

Classification  oi  Music  Styles 

Before  presenting  a  song  the  conductor 
should  classify  it  according  to  the  nature 
of  its  message  under  one  of  the  three 
types  of  vocal  expression  or  style:  Bel 
Canto,  Declamatory,  and  Diction. 

(a)  Bel  Canto  (Italian)  means  "beau- 
tiful   singing." 

In  this  style,  beauty  of  tone  is  of  para- 
mount importance.  Melody  lines  are  sung 
with  continuity  and  smoothness.  Word 
speaking  is  subdued. 


"As  The  Dew  From  Heaven  Distilling" 
( Hymn ) 

"Come  Unto  Him"  (from  The  Mes- 
siah, by  Handel) 

(b)  Declamatory 

This  style  includes  the  recitative  and 
intense  emotional  songs  as  found  in  ora- 
torios and  operas,  dramatic  songs  and 
scenes,  and  songs  of  characterization. 


"Thus  Saith  the  Lord"  (recitative  for 
bass  from  The  Messiah) 

"The  Erlking,"  by  Schubert  (Char- 
acterization ) 

"The  Voice  in  the  Wilderness,"  by 
Scott   (first  lines,  dramatic) 

(c)   Diction 

In  this  classification  word  speaking  is 
of  primary  importance. 

Examples:    (from  Recreational  Songs) 

"Cantique  de  Noel"  (O  Holy  Night) 
by  Adam,  Narrative 

"Bendemeer's    Stream"     (Irish    Folk 
Melody),  Narrative 

"Grandfather's  Clock,"  by  Work,  De- 

"Anvil  Chorus"  by  Verdi,  Descriptive 

"The  Bumblebee"  by  Rimsky-Korsa- 
kov  (Instrumental),  Imitative 

"Swiss  Echo  Song"  by  Eckert  (vocal 
solo),  Imitative. 

The  descriptive  and  the  imitative  fre- 
quently overlap.  Many  of  the  songs  we 
sing  belong  to  the  Bel  Canto  style.  An 
intermixing  of  all  the  above  styles  pro- 
duces interesting  contrasts  in  a  musical 

The  Value  of  Music  in  Everyday  Life 

She   who   works    with    a    song   in    her 
heart  ends  the  day's  routine  with  a  mini 
mum  of  monotony  and  fatigue. 

Practically  every  constructive  recre- 
ational activity  is  complemented  with 
music  before,  during,  or  after  the  event — 
the  collegiate  ball  games,  dances,  moving 
pictures,  concerts,  radio  programs,  festi 

Music  stimulates  noble  thoughts,  feel- 
ings, and  emotions,  and  affords  an  ideal 
outlet  for  their  expression. 

It  increases  friendliness,  understanding, 
and  sympathy,  and  generates  love  and 
family  unity. 

Music  dispels  fear,  gloom,  and  worry, 
and  supplants  these  with  courage,  faith, 
and  spirituality. 

It  develops  sociability,  personality, 
leadership,  and  poise. 

All  musical  participation  conduces  to 
health  and  discipline  of  mind,  body,  and 

"Literature  has  given  a  meaning  to  life; 
music  amplifies  that  meaning.  To  under- 
stand music  is  to  have  an  additional 
weapon  to  fight  life's  battles"  (Eric 
Ctarke,  from  Music  in  Everyday  Life). 



i  t 

To  Thine  Own  Self 

(Continued  from  page  109) 

j  j 

empty  seats  at  school.     I  guess  I've  had 

my   last   date   with   Jiggs.  He   probably 

thinks   I'm  a  poor  sport.  I   don't  care, 
I'm  glad  I  didn't  go. 

And  printed  carefully  across  the 
bottom  of  the  page:  To  thine  own 
self  he  true,  and  it  must  follow,  as 
the  night  the  day,  thou  canst  not 
then  he  false  to  any  man. 

Sandra  raised  her  eyes  from  the 
page.  Mom  had  a  problem,  too. 
The  Jiggs  and  Bricks  in  the  world 
were  horrid,  and  she  hated  them. 
She  glanced  down  at  the  diary  again 
and  her  eyes  caught  the  inscription 
on  the  back  of  her  father's  picture. 
It  was  faded  and  hard  to  make  out. 
It  read:  'Tor  the  sweetest  girl  in 
the  world,  from  Jiggs/'  Jiggs  was 
hei  own  iatherl 

#  #  #  # 

UER  father's  voice  startled  her. 
"This  just  came  for  you, 
Sandy."  He  was  standing  on  the 
attic  steps  holding  a  small  florist's 

"Whom  is  it  from,  Dad?"  A  sur- 
prised frown  creased  her  brow. 

"There  is  no  card  on  the  outside. 
Perhaps  you  had  better  open  it." 
He  was  suddenly  aware  of  how 
small  and  alone  she  looked  in  the 
big  attic. 

She  opened  the  box,  and  there  in 
the  tissue  paper  were  a  bunch  of 
violets  and  a  small  envelope.  The 
note  inside  was  brief: 

Dear  Sandra: 

I'd  like  to  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am 
about  last  night.  I  honestly  didn't  know 
there  was  going  to  be  drinking  at 
Hebe's.  I  know  you  are  not  that  kind 
of  girl,  and  I  guess  that's  why  I  like  you 
best.     You   surely  acted  quiet  and  mad. 

If  you're  not  still  mad,  would  you  go  to 
Church  with  me  tonight?  I  have  to 
drive  mother  to  Logan,  but  I'll  be  back 
about  four  and  give  you  a  buzz.  I  hope 
we  can  still  be  friends. 


Sandra  raised  shining,  tear-filled 
eyes  from  the  note.  "Oh,  Dad!" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  whom  that's 
from,  but  you  sure  look  happy  about 
it."    He  smiled  tenderly  at  her. 

"It's  .  .  .  it's  from  Brick." 

"Brick.  That's  the  red-headed 
one  who  has  been  here  so  often. 
Is  he  the  right  kind  of  boy,  Sandy?" 
He  smiled  sadly.  "I  guess  I'm  a 
little  late  in  asking  that." 

He  climbed  the  last  few  steps  and 
knelt  beside  her.  "I'm  sorry  I 
didn't  go  to  your  graduation,  baby. 
I  ...  I  guess  I  felt  my  life  was  over 
when  mother  left  us.  I  sort  of  for- 
got your  life  is  just  beginning.  I'll 
try  to  be  a  better  Dad  in  the  fu- 

"You're  the  best  Dad  in  the  whole 
world."  It  felt  wonderful  to  put 
her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  feel 
the  security  of  his  arms  about  her. 
"Dad,    did    they   use   to    call   vou 

Her  father's  eyes  filled  with 
memories.  "Yes,"  he  chuckled, 
"but  when  you  were  born  your 
mother  felt  a  father  should  have  a 
more  dignified  name,  so  she  went 
back  to  my  given  name,  James.  She 
used  to  get  angry  when  friends  for- 
got and  called  me  Jiggs.  You  know 
your  mother  was  a  great  one  for 
sticking  to  what  she  thought  was 

Sandra  smiled  tenderly  at  her  fa- 
ther.   "Yes,  I  know." 

^/Cdvice  to  a   'Juaughter 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

Little  daughter,  now  you  stand 
Where  the  water  blots  the  sand; 

Where  the  castle,  made  with  care, 
By  foam's  tassel  is  washed  bare; 

Find  new  places,  build  new  things, 
The  sea  erases,  yet  it  brings 

Sea-shells.     Take  them   .   .   . 

washed  ashore; 
The  waves'   cool  mouth  will  bring 

you   more. 

So,  life  will  bring  you  loss  and  pain, 
Yet,  always  joy  will  come  again. 

Ski  Song 

Lizabeth  Wall 

The  wind  is  my  brother, 

And  he  and  I 
Shall  climb  a  mountain 

White  and  high, 

Shall  climb  a  mountain, 

Tall  and  steep, 
Where  pines  are  pointed 

And  snow  is  deep. 

The  wind  is  my  brother, 
And  hand  in  hand, 

We  shall  climb  to  the 
Topmost  tip  and  stand 

Eager,  exultant, 

And  unafraid 
In  a  crystal  world 

That  the  snow  has  made. 

Then  we  shall  swing 
In  a  winged  flight 

Down  the  mountain, 
High  and  white, 

Back  to  the  land 

That  the  earth-man  sees, 
The  wind  and  I 

On  a  pair  of  skiis! 


God  Is  Love— Shelley  ...... .12 

Heavens  Are  Telling 

"Creation" — Haydn    — ..  .15 

How  Beautiful  Upon  the 

Mountains  —  Harker 16 

How  Lovely  Are  Thy 

Dwellings  —  Smart .16 

If  Ye  Love  Me,  Keep  My 

Commandments  —  Madsen 20 

Jesus,  Our  Lord,  We 

Adore  Thee  —  James .18 

King  of  Glory— Parks  .20 

My  Soul  Is  Athirst  For  God- 
Stickles  15 

O  Lord  Most  Merciful — Concone    .12 
Voice  in  the  Wilderness — Scott 22 

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a  lines  *> 


Page  139 



Uncertain  Possession 

(Continued  horn  page  114) 

stone  house  were  two  dearly  loved 
china  kittens,  and  she  had  no  right 
to  want  to  possess  them.  Perhaps, 
someday,  she'd  get  over  being  hurt 
and  surprised  by  cactus  spines, 
circling  pain,  and  wild  hawks.  But 
she  knew  she  would  never  be  able 
to  give  Matt  up  to  those  who  had 
a  prior  right  to  his  mind,  his 
thoughts,  his  attentions. 

But  she  knew,  also,  deep  in  her 
heart,  even  as  she  rejected  the 
thought,  that  she  would  never  find 
real  happiness  here  in  Westfield, 
nor  back  in  Utah,  to  which  she 
dreamed  of  returning,  unless  she 
learned  to  let  Matt  go  a  little, 
learned  to  share  him  freely  with 
those  who  also  needed  him. 
(To  be  continued) 

utousehold  uttnt 
Lael  W.  Hill 

A  little  boy's  tee-shirt,  worn  past  repair 
Can  still  dust  a  table  or  polish  a  chair 
Or  wipe  up  the  spots  that  get  spilled  on  a  floor- 
In  fact,  all  the  things  it  accomplished  before! 

JCJCittle    World  Gr  a    (Big   One 

Caroline  Eyiing  Miner 

'"PHE  size  of  the  world  we  live  in  is  much  to  our  own  choosing  or  making.     It  is  as 
*      big  or  as  little  as  the  things  we  love  and  understand  make  it  for  us. 

It  is  not  a  new  philosophy  that  we  possess  only  the  things  we  understand  and 
love.  It  was  Goethe  who  said  that  what  we  do  not  understand  we  cannot  really 
possess.  This  philosophy  is  very  significant.  It  can  make  life  as  rich  and  full  as  heaven 
and  earth  01  it  can  limit  it  to  the  four  kitchen  walls  or  to  a  chair  at  a  machine,  or  to 
office  walls. 

A  person  may  go  through  life  enlarging  his  horizons,  adding  new  interests;  flower 
culture,  interest  in  stars,  skills  in  handwork,  knowledge  of  birds,  companionship  of 
dogs,  and  his  world  grows  bigger  and  bigger. 

"I  hate  dogs";  "I  don't  know  one  flower  from  another";  "Stars,  what  stars?" 
Such  expressions,  and  you  know  the  speaker  is  living  in  a  little  world. 

"Naughty  doggie  will  bite!"  "Musn't  touch  the  flowers!"  Your  ears  tell  you  some 
innocent  child  is  being  sentenced  to  a  little  world. 

Life  is  what  we  make  it  for  ourselves  or  for  others,  and  the  world  we  live  in  is 
truly  as  big  or  as  little  as  the  things  we  understand  and  love. 

The  House  With  the 
Blue  Roof 

(Continued  from  page  99) 

ing  sign,  Atchley  &  Hanning,  George 
Harming  was  standing,  waving  at 

"Say!"  he  bellowed,  "tell  Bill  to 
get  along  here!  Doesn't  he  know 
I  haven't  had  any  lunch!  What's 
the  big  idea,  anyway?" 

Even  at  a  half  block  distance, 
George's  scowl  was  plain  to  read. 
Sharp  words  sprang  to  Marian's 
tongue.  She  had  an  impulse  to 
shout  back  at  him,  "Shame  on  you, 
George  Hanning!  Bill's  waited  for 
you  to  come  back  day  after  day! 
You're  always  late!" 

But  she  only  nodded.  "He'll  be 
back  in  a  minute,"  she  called  and 
hurried  her  steps  toward  home,  the 
realization  of  how  she  had  disar- 
ranged Bill's  day  sweeping  over  her. 
He  won't  say  much,  though,  she 
thought  gratefully.  And  then,  Poor 
Bill,  between  George  and  me  he 
really  has  a  tough  time  ....  J  dont 
know  how  he  stays  so  calm. 

Yes,  yes,  I  do  know,  she  thought. 
Why,  Bill  lives  in  the  house  with 
the  blue  roof,  too.  He  always  has! 
That's  why  he  can  put  up  with 
George  Hanning— and  with  a  wife 
that  rushes  off  and  leaves  him 
stranded  right  in  the  middle  of  a 
busy  working  day! 

Bill  had  that  unbreakable  calm 
around  him  that  was  like  the  peace 
of  a  big  orderly  room  at  night  with 
the  lamps  lighted  ....  No  matter 
where  he  was. 

Bill,  she  thought,  and  her  feet 
took  her  swiftly  up  to  the  door  of 
home.  Oh,  Bill,  I  want  to  live  in 
the  blue-roofed  house  with  you. 

Glen  Bros,  Music  Co. 

Is  Pleased  to  Announce 
A  Three-Day  Course 


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BARRETT  HALL,  48  N.  Main  St. 


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8  p.m.  Tuesday,  February  19 


10  a.m.  February  18-19-20 
Under  the  direction  of 

There    will    be    no    charge    for 
these  lectures 

Register  IS  owl 

Glen  Bros.  Musk  Co. 

74  South  Main  St. 
Salt  Lake  City 

Vi/here   LDrift  JLogs  JLie 

Mary  Gustafson 

The  smoke  curls  lazily  upward 
From  the  beach  where  drift  logs  lie, 
Curling  beyond  our  seeing, 
Disappearing  into  the  sky. 

I  rest  on  the  pillowing  seaweed 
Spilled  from  the  going  tide, 
Etching  the  scene  with  pictures — 
Completely  self-satisfied. 

I  search  through  a  million  pebbles, 
For  one  of  a  different  hue, 
Drifting  them  past  lax  fingers 
As  a  questing  child  might  do. 

The  driftwood  sinks  to  ashes, 
The  sun  is  an  embered  coal, 
And  I  am  filled  with  a  restfulness 
That  irradiates  my  soul. 

Page   141 



Lrromise  and  C/ulfiument 

Linnie  F.  Robinson 

Long  have  your  griefs  and  travail  been 
The  yoke  of  Laman's  defiant  sin; 
Trampled  enough— your  day  is  here, 
Look  up  and  he  will  dry  your  tear. 

Driven  and  scourged  in  your  own  land, 
Turn,  and  its  gift  is  close  at  hand; 
No  power  can  stay  God's  mighty  word, 
Or  stand  against  his  flaming  sword. 

No  power  can  change  the  promise  given: 
Obedience  will  bring  your  heaven; 
Bring  back  the  crowning  of  your  right; 
Bring  back  your  Canaan  and  delight. 

Oh,  red  men,  that  from  Lehi  come, 
Of  Joseph,  God's  most  blessed  son, 
Cleanse  now  your  ways  and  hear  his  voice, 
That  all  your  people  may  rejoice. 


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Loving  and  Working 

With  Our  Lamanite 


(Continued  from  page  86) 
kind    of    love    that    accepts    them 
as   they  are,   yet   dares   to   dream, 
hope,   plan,  pray,   and  work  for  a 
better  day  for  them  and  with  them. 

On  a  trip  to  Tuba,  in  northern 
Arizona,  a  little  old  man  came  to- 
ward us.  His  message,  interpreted 
to  me,  was,  'Tell  her  I  pray  for  her 
every  day  because  she  helped  my 
sick  daughter  last  year."  Can  money 
bring  such  joy  as  this? 

I  hope  to  see  the  day  when  we 
can  forgive  and  forget  the  mistakes 
of  the  past,  and  I  hope  this  people 
will  forgive  us,  too,  for  our  neglect. 
Let  us  honor  our  pioneer  ancestors 
by  giving  our  service  to  bridging 
the  gap  between  us. 

Our  Lamanite  brothers  and  sis- 
ters need  our  help.  In  Jesus'  name. 

flight  ibncounter 

Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard 

White  peace  had  covered  all  the  town 

And  wrapped  the  trees,  the  hidden  sky, 
Till  there  were  only  hills  of  down, 
The  elms,  the  falling  snow,  and  I. 

I  walked  and  Silence  walked  with  me, 
Step  after  step  with  muffled  tread, 

Till  we  were  halted  near  a  tree 
By  added  silence  overhead. 

I  shivered.  What  was  hiding  there? 

And  then  I  spied  him,  white  on  white, 
An  owl  returning  stare  for  stare 

Before  he  winged  into  the  night. 

What  passed  between  myself  and  bird? 

No  eye  could  see,  no  ear  could  know; 
And  I  stood  wondering  how  I  heard 

A  silence  deeper  than  the  snow. 

8  Send  copies   "God  Is 

Love"  @  12c  per  copy. 

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Preserve  Your 

Relief  Society  Magazines 

For  Reference 

Have  y°ur  Relief  Society 
Magazines  bound  into 
permanent  yearly  vol- 
umes. They  are  excellent 
for  reference.  Cost  is 
small.  Write  or  phone  to- 
day for  information. 

Deseret  News  Press 




Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Page  143 

C/rom    It 

ear  an 

d  cfa 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  tell  you 
how  much  I  enjoy  reading  each  issue  of 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  There  is 
so  much  that  is  worthwhile  and  inspira- 
tional, as  well  as  educational  and  in- 
formational, in  its  pages.  The  series  of 
articles  by  Elder  Albert  R.  Bowen,  "The 
Constitution  and  the  United  Nations 
Charter"  [August,  September,  October, 
November,  1951]  have  been  most  en- 
lightening and  helpful.  They  have  made 
me  realize  how  much  our  Constitution 
means  to  us,  as  the  basic  instrument  of 
government  and  the  supreme  law  of  the 
United  States.  It  seems  to  me  that 
these  articles  are  most  pertinent.  The 
editorial  in  the  November  issue  of  the 
Magazine,  'The  Beginning  of  Harvest," 
breathes  the  spirit  of  Thanksgiving  in  this 
glorious  land  of  America  and  helps  us  to 
appreciate  more  fully  our  wonderful 
blessings.  The  excellent  address  "If  You 
Live  Up  to  Your  Privileges"  (November 
1951,  address  delivered  at  the  annual 
general  Relief  Society  conference,  Oc- 
tober 4,  1951)  by  our  beloved  President 
Belle  S.  Spafford,  is  truly  inspirational 
and  helped  me  to  realize  my  privileges  as 
a  woman,  and  the  opportunities  I  enjoy 
as  a  member  of  the  Relief  Society  organ- 

— Mrs.  John  Gardner 
Oakland,  California 

I  bought  a  Christmas  News  yesterday 
and  saw  the  article  about  the  number  of 
subscriptions  secured  by  the  Magazine, 
and  I  was  so  thrilled  I  must  write  about 
it.  I  think  it  is  the  quality  of  the 
Magazine,  for  even  women  couldn't  sell 
an  inferior  Magazine.  It  is  a  wonderful 
thing  to  have  such  a  Magazine  being  read 
by  so  many  people.  Sometimes,  however, 
I  wish  we  could  have  a  deeper  motive  in 
the  stories. 

— Dorothy   Clapp    Robinson 
Boise,  Idaho 

"The  Household  of  Faith,"  an  article 
by  Vesta  P.  Crawford,  published  in  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine  in  May  1950, 
was  selected  by  the  Genealogical  Society 
of  the  Church  for  use  as  part  of  their 
program  for  Sunday  evening,  January  6, 

Page   144 

I  noticed  that  my  subscription  has  ex- 
pired, so  I  am  renewing  it  right  away 
because  I  don't  want  to  miss  any  of  our 
Magazines.  There  is  so  much  to  offer 
me  and  anyone  in  the  Magazine.  It  can 
offer  any  woman  what  she  is  interested 
in,  no  matter  how  varied  her  tastes.  I 
am  work  director  of  Lebanon  Branch  Re- 
lief Society,  Mt.  Graham  Stake,  and  in 
the  year  I  have  been  a  leader  I  have 
gained  in  wisdom  and  love  for  our  Relief 
Society  and  our  Magazine.  I  enjoyed 
getting  to  hear  our  dear  President  Belle 
S.  Spafford  and  Sister  Leone  G.  Layton 
when  they  were  here  for  our  October 
convention.  The  inspiration  and  help 
these  lovely  sisters  gave  us  is  most  heart- 
ening. I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  won- 
derful talks  and  stories  that  I  read  in  the 
Magazine,  and  especially  for  the  lessons. 
— Louise  B.  Morris 

Safford,  Arizona 

I  have  so  much  enjoyed  the  November 
Reliei  Society  Magazine,  and  I  look  for- 
ward to  the  next  one.  A  friend  of  mine 
was  telling  me  today  that  one  of  my 
poems,  called  "Spring,"  was  read  at  a 
Relief  Society  meeting  recently.  Surely 
it  is  very  satisfying  to  know  that  anything 
I  have  written  should  be  enjoyed  at  such 
a   meeting. 

— Gertrude  T.   Kovan 

Provo,  Utah 

Never  was  a  story  so  purely  given  as 
"Another  Mary"  (December  1951).  That 
story  alone  is  worth  many  times  the 
price  of  the  Magazine.  Thanks  to  the 
author,  Mary  Ross.  Come  again! 
— Cloe  Rogers 

Chesterfield,  Idaho 

I  have  never  read  any  comments  in 
the  Magazine  on  the  "Sixty  Years  Ago" 
page,  but  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  en- 
joy that  page  as  much  or  more  than  any 
page.  The  poetry  always  has  a  message 
that  soothes  the  soul. 

— Evelyn   C.   Leigh 

Los  Angeles,  California 

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man-made.  Dr.  Francis  W.  Kirkham  undertook  the  Her- 
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VOL  39    NO.  3 

s!  \k5 

MARCR%1952:  .-: 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 



-  First  Counselor 

Second  Counselor 

Velma  N 

Achsa  E.  Paxman 

Mary  G.  Judd 

Anna  B.  Hart 

Edith  S.  Elliott 

Florence  J.  Madsen 

Editor     - 
Associate   Editor 
General  Manager 

Belle  S.  Spafford 
Marianne  C.   Sharp 


C.   Pickering 

Leone  G.  Layton 
Blanche  B.  Stoddard 
Evon  W.  Peterson 
Leone  O.  Jacobs 
Mary  J.  Wilson 

Lillie  C.  Adams  Christine  H.  Robinson 

Louise  W.  Madsen  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

Aleine  M.  Young  Nellie  W.  Neal 

Josie  B.  Bay  Mildred  B.  Eyring 

Alta  I.  Vance  Helen  W.  Anderson 


Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Vesta  P.  Crawford 

Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  39 


No.   3 



Relief  Society  in  the  Lives  of  Latter-day  Saint  Women  Marianne  C.  Sharp  147 

Individual  Influence  and  Responsibility  Velma  N.  Simonsen  149 

The  Spirit  of  Relief  Society Amy  Brown  Lyman  152 

Truth  Beareth  Record  of  Truth  Lillie  C.  Adams   159 

Relief  Society  and  the  Gospel  Message  Sai  Lang  Aki  161 

The  Red  Cross  and  Its  Field  of  Service 173 

A  Price  for  Wheat  Angelyn  W.   Wadley  198 


"The  Least  of  These"  —  Third  Prize  Story  ..: „ Margery  S.  Stewart  153 

Dear  Conquest  —  Part  I  .- Deone   R.   Sutherland  163 

The  Wearing  of  the  Gay  Frances   Carter  Yost  170 

Room  for  Phyllis  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  182 

Uncertain  Possession  —  Chapter  3  Beatrice  R.   Parsons  192 


Sixty  Years  Ago  i 174 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  175 

Editorial:  A  Message  to  Relief  Society  Belle  S.   Spafford  176 

In  Memoriam  —  Martha  Jones  Ballard  178 

Announcing  the  April  Special  Short  Story  Issue  178 

Notes  to  the  Field:    Organizations  and  Reorganizations  179 

From  Near  and  Far  208 


House  Plants  Dorthea  N.   Newbold  166 

The  Crowning  Touch  * Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard  190 

Gardening  —  Food  for  the  Soul  Pauline  M.  Henderson  196 

Multiple  Hobbies  Make  Her  Happy  201 

A  Family  Is  What  You  Bake  It  Elsie  Sim  Hansen  202 

Let's  Stuff  a  Rug  Thalia  Black  207 


The  Women  of  Nauvoo  —  Frontispiece  Christie  Lund  Coles  146 

Hymn  for  Afternoon,  by  Dorothy  J.  Roberts,  151;  March  Afternoon,  by  Lael  W.  Hill,  160; 
The  Last  Snow,  by  Ouida  J.  Pedersen,  162;  Royal  Raiment,  by  Pansye  H.  Powell,  169;  Valley 
Hills,  by  Evelyn  Fjeldsted,  173;  "All  Her  Ways  Are  Peace,  by  Katherine  F.  Larsen,  178; 
Patriarch,  by  Nellie  B.  Brenchley,  181;  Command,  by  Matia  McClelland  Burk,  188;  Sound,  by 
Gene  Romolo,  189;  Old  Road,  by  Vesta  N.  Lukei,  191;  Valley  Harbor,  by  Josephine  J.  Harvey, 
191;  Words  for  Spring,  by  Grace  Sayre,  191;  Inefficacy,  by  Hazel  M.  Thomson,  195;  Twilight 
Hour,  by  Marian  Schroder  Crothers,  197;  Faded  Memory,  by  Alice  R.  Rich,  201;  Lovely  Things, 
by  Grace  Barker  Wilson,  202;  Gift  From  Spring,  by  Ora  Lee  Parthesius,  206. 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1.  Utah,  Phone  3-2741;  Sub- 
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VOL  39,   NO.  3  MARCH   1952 

cfhe    vi/ofnen  of  llauvoo 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

The  women  of  Nauvoo,  I  think, 

Were  much  as  women  anywhere, 

They  had  their  dreams,  their  momentary  doubt, 

And  they  had  prayer 

To  see  them  through  the  darkest  night, 
The  busy,  shuttling  day; 
And  yet  I  think  their  very  need 
Led  them  to  pray 

With  more  humility  and  faith, 

With  more  of  power, 

Since  fate  had  willed  that  they  should  rise 

In  that  noon  hour, 

When  crisis  after  crisis  marked 

The  path  that  they  must  take, 

Where  only  the  valiant  ones  could  stand, 

The  frail  ones,  break. 

The  women  of  Nauvoo,  I  think, 
Each  knew  her  secret  tears, 
Yet,  oh,  how  tall  her  shadow  lies 
Across  the  long,  long  years. 

The  Cover:  Torrey  Pines  Park,  San  Diego,  California,  by  Don  Knight 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Josef  Muench 


Relief  Society  in  the  Lives  of 
Latter-day  Saint  Women 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  4,  1951] 

Counselor  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

P*ROM  the  time  that  there  was  the  hearts  of  the  sisters  were  filled 
not  found  an  helpmeet  for  with  the  satisfying  joys  of  mother- 
Adam,  and  Eve  was  formed  from  hood  and  family  life,  still  there  was 
his  rib,  righteous  daughters  of  our  found  a  hunger  in  their  souls  for 
Heavenly  Father  have  sought  to  be  united  service  to  the  beloved  cause 
true  helpmeets  to  their  husbands,  for  which  so  many  had  already  suf- 

The  first  recorded  command  giv-  fered   death.     They  lived   by   the 

en  to  Adam  and  Eve  was  to  be  words  of  the  Lord,  "Ask  and  it  shall 

fruitful   and   multiply.     Following  be  given  you;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find; 

the  Fall,  glorious  Mother  Eve,  in-  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto 

spired  with  an  enlightened  knowl-  you"  (Matt.  7:7). 

edge,  exclaimed  joyfully,  "Were  it  When  a  few  sisters  approached 

not  for  our  transgression,  we  never  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith  and  made 

should  have  had  seed,  and  never  known  to  him  their  desire  to  band 

should  have  known  good  and  evil,  together  for  unity  in  service,  he  an- 

and  the  joy  of  our  redemption  and  swered,  "Your  offering  is  accepted 

the  eternal  life  which  God  giveth  of  the  Lord,"  and  shortly  thereafter 

unto    all    the    obedient"    (Moses  he  instituted,   under  divine  guid- 

5:11).  ance,  the  great  Relief  Society  for  the 

Eve,  herein,  first  recognized  the  benefit  of  the  women  of  the  Church 

work  of  woman  upon  the  earth—  and  the  blessing  of  Church  mem- 

that    of    bearing    seed.    Through  bers.     Through    this    organization 

obedience  to  this  law  woman  re-  the  key  was  turned  in  behalf  of 

ceives  her  deepest  satisfaction  and  women,  and  the  promise  made  that 

greatest  reward.  knowledge  and  intelligence  would 

In  fortitude  and  nobility  of  soul,  flow  down  from  that  time  hence- 

the  Latter-day  Saint  women  of  Kirt-  forth.    "It  is  natural  for  females  to 

land,  of  Missouri,  and  of  Nauvoo,  have  feelings  of  charity  and  benevo- 

bore    children    in    the    midst    of  lence,"  the  Prophet  declared.  "You 

journeys,  in  poverty,  and  in  persecu-  are  now  placed  in  a  situation  in 

tion,  and  many  times  with  their  which   you   can   act   according   to 

husbands  absent  preaching  the  gos-  those  sympathies  which  God  has 

pel.    But  they  rejoiced  in  the  bless-  planted  in  your  bosoms"  (D.H.C. 

ings  of  the  gospel  and  stood  firm  IV,  page  605 ) . 

in  adversity,  comforting  their  hus-  All  of  us  present  today  are  prob- 

bands  in  affliction.  ably  aware  in  a  general  way  of  the 

In  1842,  when  peace  reigned  for  subsequent   history   of   Relief    So- 

a  short  interlude  in  Nauvoo,  and  ciety.     The   Prophet   Joseph   con- 
Page  M7 


tinued  to  give  instructions  to  the  dent   addressing   a    Relief   Society 

sisters  at  later  meetings  on  their  du-  gathering.     He  told  how  resentful 

ties,  responsibilities,  and  opportuni-  he  was  as  a  child  to  be  told  by  his 

ties.     How  precious  are  his  words  mother,  a  Relief  Society  president, 

and   those   of   the  prophet-leaders  to  hitch  up  the  team  so  she  could 

since  that  day!  leave  her  family  to  minister  to  the 

In  1942,  the  hundredth  anniver-  needs  of  a  neighbor.    As  he  grew 

sary  of  the  organization  of  Relief  older,    however,    he    affirmed,    his 

Society,   the   First   Presidency   de-  whole  feeling  about  the  matter  had 

clared  in  a  message  to  Relief  So-  changed    and    he    urged    the    as- 

ciety:  sembled    sisters    to   follow   in    the 

Members  should  permit  no  other  af-  footsteps  of  his   mother  and  serve 

filiation  either  to  interrupt  or  to  interfere  their   neighbors.  As   I   sat  listening 

with  the  work  of  this  Society.  .  .  .  We  to  him>   j   thought  of  hard   trials 

urge  this  because  in  the  work  or  the  Re-  t_-t,ti            t-jt,      1.  t.- 

lief  Society  are  intellectual,  cultural,  and  winch  I  knew  had  beset  his  giving 

spiritual  values  found  in  no  other  organ-  full  allegiance  to  the  Church,  and 

ization  and  sufficient  for  all  general  needs  said  to  myself,  probably  the  dearest 

of  its  members.     We  urge  all  the  Sisters  blessing  which  came  to  his  mother 

to  take  these  things  to  heart,  and  to  co-  for  her  Rdief  Sodet    WQrk  was  not 

operate  in  continuing  the  Relief  Society  Ll       ,,                  ,         J    .      -,    c       ■, 

in  its  position  of  the  greatest  and  most  the  Messings   she  received   for  her 

efficient    woman's    organization    in    the  ministrations,  but  the  fact  that  her 

world.  devotion  to  her  Church  .call  had 

How  are  the  sisters  today  heed-  been  such  a  guiding  star  for  her  son 
ing  this  exhortation?  According  to  that  he  had  overcome  the  obstacles 
our  records  there  are  more  Latter-  in  nis  Path  and  become  so  faithful 
day  Saint  women  who  do  not  be-  as  to  be  chosen  one  of  our  great 
long  to  Relief  Society  than  there  stake  presidents, 
are  who  hold  membership.  We  The  Relief  Society  is  not  an 
have  over  one  hundred  twenty-six  organization  formed  by  man.  It  is 
thousand  members,  but  there  are  the  Lord's.  Relief  Society  does  not 
over  one  hundred  thirty-six  thou-  need  us,  we  need  Relief  Society, 
sand  sisters  who  are  not  members.  Relief  Society  will  continue  in  its 
Relief  Society  has  been  termed  the  great  destined  work  of  service  with- 
handmaid  to  the  Priesthood.  Upon  out  you  or  me.  But  we  will  forfeit 
Relief  Society  is  placed  the  work  blessings  unnumbered  if  we  step 
of  the  Church  to  be  performed  by  aside  in  the  shadows, 
the  women.  Less  than  half  of  the  May  every  Latter-day  Saint  worn- 
sisters  are  carrying  this  work.  an  awaken  to  the  part  she  might 

A    member    of    Relief    Society  be  taking,  to  the  responsibility  she 

stretches  her  arms  beyond  the  circle  might  be  shouldering,  to  the  bless- 

of  her  immediate  family  to  bring  ings  she  might  be  earning,  that  in 

help  and  pour  solace  and  balm  up-  the  day  of  judgment  it  may  be  said 

on  the  hearts  of  the  discouraged,  of  each  one  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have 

the  sorrowing,  the  distressed.    The  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 

blessings  to  be  obtained  are  certain,  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it 

Recently  I  heard  a  stake  presi-  unto  me,"  is  my  prayer. 

Individual  Influence  and 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  4,  1951] 

Counselor  Velma  N.  Simonsen 

I   HAVE  here  the  front  page  of  a  ity,  dishonesty,  lack  of  public  in- 
recent    issue    of    The   Deseiet  tegrity,  and  the  many  other  evils 
News.  Let  me  read  you  a  few  that  the  headlines  proclaim, 
of  the  headlines:  We  realize  that  something  should 

'Teenage    Hoodlums    Smash  be  done>  but  perhaps  we  feel  nelP' 

Windows"  less  with  the  overwhelming  prospect 

"Civil   Defense   Begins   Training  of  reforming  the  whole  world.  Pos- 

Program"  sibly  the  mistake  we  make  is  that 

"Police   Slaying  Trial  Opens"  we   encompass   too   much   territory 

"Tax    Employee    Admits  in  our  thinking.     Most  tasks,   tak- 

«  Money  Split"  en   as   a   whole,     are     discouraging. 

"Salt  Lake  Tourist  Loses  $185  Even  the  prospect  of  housecleaning 

to  Burglars"  our    Qwn    homes    would    be    over- 

I    do   not   read   these   headlines  whelming  if  we  did  not  do  it  bit 

because  they  are  new  and  startling,  by    bit.     Starting    with    a    dresser 

they  are  old  and  familiar  to  all  of  drawer,  then  a  closet,  then  going 

us,  for  we  read  almost  these  iden-  from  room  to  room,  until  the  whole 

tical  words  every  day  in  our  news-  nouse  is  elean.    lt  is  one  of  tne  most 

papers.    I  read  them  to  you  because  potent  tools  of  Satan  to  make  us 

they  indicate  the  serious  condition  feel  inadequate  and  discouraged, 

our  world  is  in  today.  One  day  a  famous  surgeon  was 

Many  have  attributed  the  evils  performing  a  very  delicate  opera- 
of  our  times  to  subversive  activity,  tion.  The  life  of  the  patient  de- 
but in  reality  it  is  rather  through  pended  upon  the  skill  of  his  hands, 
subversive  inactivity  that  we  have  At  the  same  time  in  the  basement 
allowed  ourselves  to  be  brought  to  of  the  hospital  sat  the  electrician, 
this  state.  Those  familiar  with  the  He  was  thinking  of  the  important 
words  of  the  Lord  realize  that  this  work  the  surgeon  did  and  was  be- 
condition  exists  among  us  because  moaning  the  fact  that  he  himself 
men  have  ignored  the  command-  held  such  a  useless  position  in  life, 
ments  of  the  Lord  and  have  thus  Just  then  the  lights  in  the  hospital 
allowed  Satan  to  have  power  over  flickered  and  went  out.  Quick  as 
them.  a    flash,    the    electrician,    with    a 

Most  of  us  in  this  building  today  thorough  understanding  of  his  job, 

are  Latter-day  Saint  mothers.    Let  was  able  to  repair  the  broken  cir- 

us  ask  ourselves,  What  am  I  doing  cuit,    and    the    doctor    successfully 

to  correct  these  evils— evils  of  de-  completed  the  operation.  The  work 

linquency,   intemperance,  immoral-  of  the  surgeon  involved  scalpel  and 

Page  149 



suture,  that  of  the  electrician,  fuses 
and  switch,  yet  it  took  the  co-oper- 
ation of  both  to  save  the  life  of  the 

We  must  not  underestimate  the 
influence  each  of  us  has  in  her  own 
sphere,  nor  how  far-reaching  that 
influence  can  be.  I  heard  President 
George  Albert  Smith  once  say  that 
if  every  person  in  the  State  of  Utah 
would  live  the  Golden  Rule  and  the 
Ten  Commandments  it  could  revo- 
lutionize the  whole  world.  Isn't 
it  worth  trying? 

T  ET  us  start  with  ourselves  and 
our  own  household.  Let  us 
maintain  homes  in  which  the  gos- 
pel is  lived  and  taught.  Let  us 
maintain  homes  that  will  send  forth 
into  the  world  men  and  women 
with  strong  testimonies  of  the  gos- 
pel of  Jesus  Christ,  men  and  wom- 
en of  character  and  moral  integrity, 
who  are  equipped  to  meet  life  and 
carry  their  share  of  its  responsibili- 
ties. Someone  has  said,  "A  good 
family  life  is,  in  the  last  resort,  the 
nation's  most  priceless  asset." 

Henry  C.  Link  in  his  book  Ways 
oi  Secuiity  tells  us  that  during  the 
last  war  London  parents  shipped  as 
many  children  as  possible  into  the 
country  where  they  would  be 
physically  safe  from  air  bombard- 
ment. Studies  made  after  the  war 
showed  that  children  who  remained 
in  London,  with  their  parents,  suf- 
fered less  physically  and  emotional- 
ly, than  did  the  children  sent  to  the 
country  for  safety.  The  true  se- 
curity was  found  to  be  family  unity, 
not  physical  safety. 

The  Latter-day  Saints  have  always 
maintained  that  the  home  is  one 
of  the  most  important  institutions 

of  society.  In  order  that  this  most 
valuable  institution  might  be  uti- 
lized to  its  full  capacity  to  obtain 
the  rich  spiritual  dividends  and  the 
joy  of  fuller  living  that  come  from 
strong  home  and  family  relation- 
ships, the  General  Authorities  of  the 
Church  have  recommended  to  us 
the  adoption  of  a  definite  Family 
Hour,  where  parents  can  gather 
their  family  around  them  and  teach 
the  gospel  by  precept  and  example, 
where  they  can  use  their  influence 
where  it  can  be  most  effective  in  de- 
veloping spirituality  in  their  chil- 
dren, and  fortifying  them  against 
the  evils  of  the  world. 

The  Relief  Society  was  given  the 
special  assignment  to  spearhead  the 
program,  and  to  do  everything  pos- 
sible to  encourage  the  observance 
of  the  Family  Hour  in  every  Latter- 
day  Saint  home.  This  year  we  have 
visited  or  will  visit  every  stake  of 
the  Church  in  Relief  Society  con- 
ventions. We  have  given  encour- 
agement to  the  stake  leaders,  with 
some  suggestions  for  successful 
Family  Hours.  Many  of  you  here 
are  stake  Relief  Society  presidents 
to  whom  these  instructions  were 
given.  Most  of  us  are  Latter-day 
Saint  mothers,  to  whom  these  in- 
structions apply.  How  many  of  us 
have  put  these  instructions  to  work 
and  are  conscientiously  observing 
the  Family  Hour? 

We  cannot  tell  you  specifically 
what  to  do  in  each  of  your  particular 
families,  but  let  me  offer  a  few  sug- 
gestions that  may  help  you  to  un- 
derstand the  nature  and  importance 
of  a  successful  Family  Hour. 

Make  the  occasion  one  of  natural 
informality,  not  a  meeting.  The 
element  of  spontaneity  should  be  in 



every  get-together.  Do  make  it  a 
spiritual  occasion.  I  once  heard  a 
brother  say,  "Give  your  children 
spiritual  experiences  and  they  will 
be  satisfied  with  no  other  kind." 

HpEACH  your  children  to  pray. 
Last  month  in  our  stake  con- 
ference, President  Joseph  Fielding 
Smith  said  that  as  a  whole  we  are 
not  a  praying  people.  He  said  that 
throughout  the  Church  a  large  per- 
centage of  the  boys  whom  he  inter- 
views for  missions  say  they  do  not 
have  family  prayers  in  their  homes. 
Are  we  trying  to  solve  the  problems 
of  today  without  seeking  the  aid  of 
our  Father  in  heaven?  Let  us  not 
b£  too  proud  to  pray  with  our  fami- 
lies, as  well  as  for  them.  It  is  a 
commandment  of  the  Lord  that  we 
must  teach  our  children  to  pray. 

The  Doctrine  and  Covenants 

And  they  shall  also  teach  their  children 
to  pray,  and  to  walk  uprightly  before  the 
Lord  (D.  &  C.  68:28). 

Sisters,  use  your  own  initiative 
in  arranging  your  Family  Hours 
Make  sure  all  instructions  and  en- 

tertainments, all  exercises  and 
amusements,  are  in  harmony  with 
the  teachings  of  the  Church.  Make 
it  an  occasion  to  which  each  mem- 
ber of  the  family  will  look  forward 
with  interest  and  anticipation.  Give 
thought  and  energy  to  the  planning. 
Just  like  any  other  worthwhile  proj- 
ect, good  families  do  not  "just  hap- 
pen/' They  have  to  be  worked  for. 
There  is  no  excellence  without 
labor,  no  real  accomplishment  with- 
out effort. 

May  we  go  home  from  this  con- 
ference with  the  feeling  that  we  can 
d<3  the  simple  things  which  are 
necessary  to  help  this  sorry  world, 
and  with  a  determination  to  be- 
gin at  once  doing  these  things 
that  we  may  receive  the  blessings 
promised  to  us  by  the  First  Presi- 
dency in  1915  when  the  Family 
Hour  was  first  inaugurated.  They 

If  the  Saints  obey  this  counsel  (of 
teaching  the  gospel),  we  promise  that 
great  blessings  will  result.  Love  at  home 
and  obedience  to  parents  will  increase. 
Faith  will  be  developed  in  the  hearts  of 
the  youth  of  Israel,  and  they  will  gain 
power  to  combat  the  evil  influences  and 
temptations  which  beset  them. 

Crlymn  for  KjLjtemoon 

Dowthy  J.  Roberts 

It  is  only  to  thee,  dear  Lord,  that  I  dare  whisper, 

I  am  glad;  only  to  thee; 

Only  into  thine  ear  I  sing  the  joy 

Held  undeservedly; 

Only  unto  thy  knowing  that  I  tell  my  peace, 

The  peace  to  set  me  free; 

Only  unto  thy  listening,  the  samite  word 

Wafted  in  melody. 

Only  to  thee  I  bring  the  gratitudes 

Which  beat  and  surge  in  me, 

The  final  sum,  which  is  good,  I  bring,  my  Lord, 

The  sum  of  all  I  see. 

The  Spirit  of  Relief  Society 

President  Amy  Brown  Lyman 
[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference,  October  4,  1951] 


Y  dear  sisters,  I  am  sure  we 
are  all  overcome  on  this  oc- 
casion with  this  beautiful 
session  of  the  conference.  We  have 
been  thrilled  with  the  report  of 
Sister  Spafford  which  shows  the 
great  growth  of  this  organization. 
It  surely  inspires  us  to  go  on  and 
do  our  best  for  its  continued 
growth,  development,  and  effective- 

Of  course,  I  think  people  as  old 
as  I  am  are  sometimes  given  the 
privilege  of  reminiscing  a  little.  I 
was  thinking  this  morning  of  the 
time  when  I  came  here  to  con- 
ference, first  as  assistant  secretary, 
forty-one  years  ago.  I  used  to  sit 
at  a  little  table  over  here  at  the 
right  so  that  Aunt  Bathsheba  and 
Aunt  Em  could  call  me  over  to  do 
little  errands  for  them.  I  thought 
of  that,  and  then  I  thought  of  the 
number  of  stakes— fifty-five  stakes 
at  that  time,  and  now  they  have 
grown  to  over  three  times  that 
many.  But  the  spirit  of  the  Relief 
Society  is  always  the  same— that 
beautiful  spirit,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
gospel  which  accompanies  it. 

I  am  sure  we  were  all  touched 
this  morning  when  our  dear  Sister 
Aki  gave  such  a  lovely  testimony 
and  such  a  fine  report.  Her  gracious- 
ness  and  her  loveliness  and  her  faith 
are  surely  an  inspiration  to  all  of  us. 

I  would"  like  to  suggest  one  thing 
this  morning  and  that  is  that  the 
Relief  Society  women  constantly 
pledge  themselves  to  the  support  of 

Page  152 

our  presidency  and  our  general 
board  in  every  particular,  and  that 
we  support  also  the  General  Au- 
thorities of  the  Church,  and  all  of 
the  programs  and  the  instructions 
that  they  have  for  us.  I  am  sure 
that  we  can  do  no  better  than  to 
do  this.  Let  us  keep  this  in  our 
hearts  and  minds  at  all  times. 

I  certainly  desire  to  bear  my  testi- 
mony to  the  truthfulness  of  the  gos- 
pel which  to  me  is  the  greatest  thing 
in  the  whole  world,  and  the  most 
comforting  of  all  things.  And  I 
want  to  bear  my  testimony  to  the 
great  good  that  has  been  accom- 
plished in  these  hundred  years  by 
the  Relief  Society  and  by  the  dear 
sisters  who  have  guided  us  and 
pointed  the  way  for  us.  It  is  up  to 
us  now  to  do  all  that  we  can  to  car- 
ry on  the  work  with  vigor  and  ef- 

While  our  organization  is  not 
the  largest  in  the  world,  to  me  it  is 
certainly  the  most  important  in  all 
the  world,  for  women,  and  I  pray 
that  the  Lord  will  continue  to  bless 
and  prosper  it,  and  prosper  every- 
body who  takes  part  in  it. 

If  I  had  the  power  to  bless,  I 
would  like  to  bless  all  of  you  dear 
sisters— you  valiant  stake  workers  in 
our  great  cause.  You  have  great 
responsibilities  resting  upon  you, 
and  I  am  proud  of  you  and  your  ef- 
forts and  accomplishments.  You 
are  all  heroines  in  this  great  cause, 
and  may  the  Lord  continue  to  bless 
you,  which  I  ask  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

cJhtrd  Lrrtze  Story 

iSififiucii  [Relief  Society  Short  Story  Looniest 

4  6 

The  Least  of  These' 

Margery  S.  Stewart 



F  only  one  person  speaks  to 
you  .  .  .  ."  Miss  Nora  had 
said.  Timothy  looked  all 
around  the  chapel.  It  was  beautiful 
and  new  and  still  smelled  of  the 
pale  green  paint.  Now  it  was  fill- 
ing up  rapidly  with  people.  But 
none  of  them  had  seen  him  yet. 

Timothy  reached  for  the  hymn 
book  and  opened  it  to  the  first 
song.  When  he  stood  up  and  sang 
right  along  with  them  .  .  .  when 
they  saw  how  well  he  could  read, 
they  would  be  glad.  They  would 
come  over  then  and  shake  his  hand 
and  say,  'Tim,  that's  wonderful, 
when  did  you  learn?" 

Four  girls  drifted  down  to  his 
bench,  the  third  from  the  front. 
They  were  his  age,  fourteen,  pretty 
and  laughing.  Tim  looked  up  and 
saw  the  consternation  in  their  eyes 
when  they  saw  him,  the  hurried 
backing  away.  They  found  a  place 
on  the  other  side  of  the  room.  The 
horror  began  to  enfold  its  black 
clouds  about  him.  Timothy  fought 
it  as  Miss  Nora  had  taught  him  to 

"Remember  that's  in  the  past, 
Tim,"  she  said,  "that  was  long 
ago  .  .  .  but  now  things  are  chang- 
ing .  .  .  you  are  changing  .  .  .  you 
are  going  to  conquer  all  these 

Timothy  thought  hard  about 
Miss     Nora,     because     when     he 


thought  of  her,  the  clouds  dis- 
solved. He  remembered  the  first 
day  he  had  met  her.  That  was  a 
year  ago.  It  had  been  the  first  day 
of  school.  The  new  teacher  had 
called  on  him  to  read.  She  hadn't 
known.  She  had  thought  he  looked 
like  any  other  boy.  Timothy  re- 
membered how  his  palms  had 
sweated  and  the  gripping  of  his 
toes  in  his  big  shoes  as  the  laughter 
began  like  a  low,  cold  wind  coming 
up  from  the  derision  of  his  class- 
mates. He  had  fumbled  open  the 
book  and  stood  there  speechless, 
while  the  blood  drummed  in  his 
ears  and  his  head  seemed  to  swell 

Page   153 



as  if  it  must  burst  and  the  black 
clouds  billowed  before  his  eyes. 

"He  can't  read!"  Jack  and  Phil 
had  shouted  scornfully.  "He  never 

Other  teachers  had  sometimes 
been  embarrassed,  or  cross,  as  if  he 
had  played  a  trick  on  them.  But 
this  teacher  said,  casually,  "Very 
well,  then,  Timothy,  would  you 
take  this  book  to  the  office  for  me 

His  trembling  knees  could  scarce- 
ly make  the  short  distance  to  her 
desk,  and  out  the  door.  He  had 
leaned  against  the  wall,  dizzy  and 
sick.    The  teacher  came  out. 

She  was  an  older  woman  with 
white  hair  and  very  blue  eyes.  She 
said,  "I'm  sorry,  Timothy.  I  had 
no  idea." 

"That's  all  right."  He  talked  very 
fast,  the  words  tumbling  over  each 
other,  because  people  never  seemed 
to  want  to  hear  all  he  would  tell 
them.  "I  was  sick,  in  the  first  grade 
and  in  the  second,  too.  When  I 
came  back  to  school  everybody  else 
was  reading  .  .  .  only  I  didn't  know 
how."  He  had  no  way  to  tell  her 
how  they  frightened  and  confused 
him.  Words,  words,  white,  dancing 
demons  on  the  blackboards  that 
mocked  and  called  him  and  twisted 
his  mind  into  snarls  when  he  strug- 
gled   to    decipher    their    meaning. 

"So  I  ...  I  never  learned." 

CHE  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 
^  "I  have  a  friend  who  might 
help  you,  if  there's  the  smallest 
chance  at  all.  Miss  Nora.  She 
lives  at  1952  Lilac  Avenue.  You 
go  and  see  her,  now.  I'll  call  her 
and  tell  her  you  are  coming." 

Timothy  had  gone  gratefully  out 
of  the  great  building,  away  from 

the  end  of  the  class  period,  the  roar 
of  feet  around  him,  the  thin  laugh- 
ter, the  drawing  away,  the  prison 
of  loneliness. 

The  place  where  Miss  Nora  lived 
was  a  little  house,  almost  hidden 
under  lilac  bushes  and  locust  trees. 
Miss  Nora  was  small,  too.  She 
seemed  very  old  to  Timothy.  She 
had  gray  hair  above  a  brown, 
wrinkled,  strong  face.  She  had 
piercing  blue  eyes  that  looked  him 
through  and  through.  "You're 
Timothy  Crandall,"  she  said, 
"come  in." 

Timothy  went  reluctantly  away 
from  the  sun  and  shadows  of  the 
cool  September  day  into  the  crowd- 
ed little  living  room  that  was  Miss 
Nora's  teaching  room.  There  was 
a  round  table  in  the  center  of  the 
room,  cleared  except  for  some  books, 
a  rocking  chair  by  the  old  fireplace, 
an  ancient,  sagging  sofa,  and  many 
framed  pictures  on  the  wall.  But 
everything  was  incredibly  neat  and 
comforting  to  the  eye. 

"Sit  down,"  Miss  Nora  said,  "tell 
me  about  yourself." 

But  he  couldn't  speak. 

Miss  Nora  went  to  a  chest  in  the 
corner,  opened  it,  and  took  out  a 
football.  She  held  it  up,  "What  is 
it,  Timothy?" 

"A  football."  Now  it  was  his  turn 
to  be  scornful. 

She  laughed  and  tossed  the  ball 
to  him.  "You  boys  have  so  many 
.  .  .  basketballs,  baseballs,  volley 
balls,  it's  hard  for  me  to  tell  the 
difference."  She  went  over  to  the 
table  and  opened  a  book.  It  had 
a  picture  of  a  boy  holding  a  foot- 
ball. "What  does  he  have?"  Miss 
Nora  asked  again. 

"A  football."    Now  Timothy  was 



angry,  because  she  had  asked  such 
a  simple  thing  as  that. 

She  pointed  to  the  mysterious 
black  letters,  quite  high,  under  the 
picture.    'What  is  that  word?" 

Timothy  looked  at  the  word.  He 
knew  it  could  mean  only  one  thing 
in  the  world  and  he  began  to 
tremble,  the  sickness  came  over 

"There  is  no  one  here  but  you 
and  me,"  said  Miss  Nora  gently, 
"and  I'll  give  you  twenty  guesses  if 
you  like,  even  though  I  know  you 
know  what  it  means/' 

".  .  .  .  Football."  He  hunched 
his  shoulders,  but  there  was  no  de- 
risive laughter  about  him,  there  was 
only  quietness  and  the  purring  of 
the  cat  on  the  window  sill  and  Miss 
Nora's  low  chuckle. 

"That's  what  it  is,  Timothy. 
Football."    She  rumpled  his  hair. 

HPIMOTHY  looked  at  the  word 
as  he  would  look  at  a  friend. 
It  was  a  friendly  little  word  with 
its  curves  and  round  letters,  not 
hard  and  cold  and  mocking  like  the 
others  had  been.  "Football,"  he 
said  and  touched  it  with  his  finger. 
"But  the  other  words  are  real  hard." 

"No,"  said  Miss  Nora.  "We  will 
open  the  gate,  very  gently,  here," 
she  rubbed  his  head,  "and  the 
words  will  come  in  one  by  one." 

"But  reading  makes  me  sick  at 
my  stomach,"  he  protested. 

"It  is  fear,"  Miss  Nora  said,  "I 
will  help  you  overcome  the  fear." 

Timothy  could  hardly  wait  to  get 
home.  Everything  would  be  dif- 
ferent because  of  this  day.  But 
Rex,  his  older  brother,  the  smart 
one,  had  just  bought  a  new  suit 
and  everyone  was  admiring  it. 

"Go  clean  the  basement,  Tim- 
othy," his  mother  called,  when  she 
heard  him  come  in. 

But  Timothy  edged  into  the  liv- 
ing room.  "I  have  a  new  teacher," 
he  said,  "a  private  one." 

"I  know,"  his  father  said,  getting 
ready  to  go  back  to  the  office.  He 
had  driven  Rex  home.  "See  that  you 
behave  yourself  or  it  will  be  the 
worse  for  you."  But  his  father 
looked  at  Rex  all  the  time  he  was 
speaking.  Timothy  knew  it  was 
because  Rex  delighted  his  father, 
and  he,  Timothy,  was  like  a  thorn 
in  his  father's  eye.  It  did  not  hurt 
him  any  more.  It  had  become  a 
natural  thing. 

"Run  along,  dear,"  his  mother 
said.  "I'm  glad  you  like  your  new 
teacher.  Do  the  driveway  for  me, 
too,  I'm  having  visitors  tomorrow." 

Timothy  went  slowly  downstairs. 
All  the  jubilance  was  gone  out  of 
the  day.  The  great  doors  of  lone- 
liness had  closed  upon  him  again. 
Just  as  they  were  trying  to  close  on 
him  now,  in  church. 

"Don't  submit  to  it,"  Miss  Nora 
kept  saying.  "Overcome  it.  There's 
a  great  treasure  for  you  in  church. 
It  might  be  different  now,  Tim- 

Timothy  looked  down  at  his 
shabby  trousers,  castoffs  from  Rex. 
Perhaps  if  he  came  to  church  all 
dressed  up,  it  would  be  different. 
But  he  always  looked  like  this, 
clothes  too  large  or  too  small,  and 
his  great  hands  spreading  over  his 
knees  like  hams.  He  stuffed  them 
in  his  pocket  as  the  bishop  stepped 
to  the  pulpit. 

nPHEY    sang    a    song    he    liked, 

1    "Shall     the    Youth     of    Zion 

Falter?"    Timothy  started  to  sing, 



but  his  voice  sounded  strange  all 
alone  on  the  first  three  rows.  He 
looked  behind  him.  All  the  bench- 
es around  him  and  behind  him  were 
filled.  The  people  were  like  a  for- 
est. He  longed  with  a  dreadful 
aching  to  be  lost  among  them,  an- 
other casual  tree,  not  like  this,  like 
a  strange,  tormented  bird  on  the 
farthest  branch.  He  was  glad  when 
the  song  was  over  and  he  could  sit 
down  again. 

He  bowed  his  head  for  the  prayer. 
But  in  spite  of  himself,  a  slow  anger 
stirred  within  him  at  Miss  Nora 
for  making  him  come,  for  making 
him  promise  that  as  long  as  one 
person  spoke  to  him,  he  would  con- 
tinue to  come.  He  straightened. 
No  one  had  even  nodded  to  him 
yet,  so  perhaps  he  wouldn't  have  to 
come  again  after  tonight.  If  Mom 
and  Dad  came,  it  would  be  a  cinch, 
but  they  had  long  ago  given  up 
attending  church.  He  kicked  his 
feet  out  straight.  It  was  easy  for 
someone  like  Miss  Nora  to  go  to 
church.  She  loved  it.  She  was 
happy  there,  with  people  all  around 
her,  loving  her,  being  glad  for  her 

When  the  sacrament  was  passed, 
he  took  it  carefully,  as  Miss  Nora 
had  told  him  to  do.  He  bowed  his 
head  and  tried  to  reach  out  in  his 
mind  to  that  day  upon  the  cross. 
He  couldn't  understand  it  all.  But 
he  felt  a  bond  between  the  Man 
who  had  been  spat  upon  and  smit- 
ten and  himself.  He  knew  how 
Jesus  had  felt,  Timothy  thought, 
because  he  had  been  the  center  of 
that  cruel  circle  many  times  him- 
self .  .  .  the  children  dancing 
around  him,  mocking  him,  and  the 

terror  closing  his  mind,  making  him 
appear  more  stupid  than  he  was. 

But  he  wasn't  stupid.  Not  any 
more.  Now  he  knew  how  to  read. 
Miss  Nora  had  taught  him.  He 
knew  the  meaning  of  every  word 
he  looked  at,  except  the  very  long 
and  hard  ones,  and  Miss  Nora  said 
even  many  brilliant  people  had  to 
stop  and  think  when  they  came  to 
hard  words. 

He  was  aware  suddenly  of  the 
speaker  of  the  evening,  a  returned 
missionary  from  Hawaii.  He  was  a 
tall,  blonde  young  man,  with  a  thin, 
gentle  face.  He  had  been  sta- 
tioned in  the  leper  colony  at 
Molokai.  Timothy  leaned  forward, 
utterly  forgetful  of  himself,  his  at- 
tention riveted  on  the  speaker.  He 
heard  faintly  the  people  behind 
him  murmuring  in  sympathy  when 
the  missionary  told  of  the  little 
group  of  lepers  shut  off  from  the 
world  by  the  terrible  sickness  of 
their  flesh.  Timothy  thought  sud- 
denly, I  know  how  they  feel.  I 
know  just  how  they  feel  when 
people  shrink  away  and  are  afraid. 
He  was  glad  when  the  missionary 
told  how  they  helped  one  another. 
I'd  like  to  go  there,  Timothy 
thought,  I'd  like  that  fine. 

HpHE  deacons  on  the  first  row 
made  a  small  commotion  and 
Timothy  looked  over  there.  He 
saw  Jack  looking  his  way  and  smil- 

At  me?  Timothy  wondered.  He 
made  an  uncertain,  fumbling  salute 
with  his  right  hand.  The  smile 
faded  on  Jack's  face,  he  said  some- 
thing to  one  of  the. other  boys,  and 
they  looked  Timothy's  way  and 



Now  Timothy  could  not  wait  for 
the  last  song  to  be  sung,  the  closing 
prayer  said.  He  would  get  out  of 
this  place  and  never  come  back. 
He  crowded  up  the  aisle,  but  it  was 
too  tightly  packed  to  get  through. 
He  had  to  bide  his  time  with  the 
rest.  He  looked  straight  ahead.  No 
one  seemed  to  be  looking  his  way. 
His  hands  were  sweating  and  his 
heart  knocking  under  his  shirt. 
They  probably  thought  he  was 
dumb  to  come.  They  were  prob- 
ably hating  him  for  coming.  Per- 
haps they  didn't  think  he  belonged 
in  their  beautiful  new  church. 

He  reached  the  doors  and  the 
sweet  smell  of  April  flowed  into  his 
lungs.  Ten  steps  to  the  sidewalk 
and  he'd  be  through  with  church 
for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Suddenly  someone  put  a  hand  on 
his  arm  and  drew  him  back. 

Timothy  wheeled  about,  angry 
and  afraid.  It  was  the  returned  mis- 
sionary. "Hi,  fellow,"  he  said,  "I 
noticed  you  when  I  was  talking. 
You  really  seemed  interested." 

"I  was,"  Timothy  blurted.  "You 
made  it  sound  .  .  .  sound  .  .  ."  He 
stood  helplessly  reaching  for  a  word. 

"I  brought  back  some  koda- 
chromes,"  the  missionary  said. 
"Come  over  some  night,  I'll  show 
them  to  you." 

"Thanks  .  .  ."  Timothy  said.  He 
broke  away  and  ran.  He  ran  down 
the  street,  past  his  own  house, 
running  and  running  into  the  night. 
He  could  not  outrun  the  tears  on 
his  face.  Why  am  I  crying,  he 
wondered,  because  one  guy  spoke 
to  me?  Do  I  have  to  bawl  because 
one  old  dumb  guy  speaks  to  me? 
But  the  tears  flowed  faster  and 
faster,  and  the  lump  inside  him  did 

not  dissolve.  It  pained  more  than 
the  time  he  had  broken  his  leg. 

He  ran  to  Miss  Nora's  house  and 
stopped.  But  only  the  porch  light 
was  on.  That  meant  she  wasn't 
home.  When  he  saw  the  darkened 
windows,  Timothy  knew  he  had  to 
see  Miss  Nora.  He  had  to  be  with 
her  just  a  few  minutes,  so  she  would 
help  him  to  get  back  to  that  calm, 
quiet  room  where  he  could  do  any- 
thing, amount  to  great  things  if  he 
tried  long  and  hard  enough.  May- 
be she's  in  church. 

He  went  down  the  street  and 
over  two  squares  and  found  her 
meetinghouse.  It  was  an  older  build- 
ing, but  beautifully  kept,  the  April 
flowers,  daffodils  and  tulips  bloomed 
under  the  tall,  lighted  lamps.  The 
services  were  just  ending.  - 

First  a  man  came  out,  then  boys 
catapulted  down  the  stairs  like  noisy 
rockets,  then  girls  danced  their 
graceful  way  to  the  sidewalk,  and 
then  the  older  ones  came.  Miss 
Nora  came.  She  was  all  alone.  She 
smiled  and  spoke  to  a  group  of 
people,  and  they  nodded  back. 
Somehow,  Timothy  had  expected  to 
see  her  escorted  out  with  trumpets 
and  banners.  It  was  a  shock  to  see 
her  come  out  like  this,  so  small,  so 
bent,  and  so  alone. 

Two  girls  sauntered  past  Timothy. 
They  looked  up  and  saw  Miss 
Nora.  "There's  my  piano  teacher," 
one  said  angrily,  "I  sure  hate  her." 

"Me,  too"  said  the  other.  She 
makes  you  work  too  hard." 

Timothy  stood  very  still.  Hate 
Miss  Nora?  How  could  anyone  hate 
a  woman  as  wise  and  kind  as  she? 
They  just  didn't  understand  her. 
She  had  opened  the  door  of  his 
prison  and  set  him  free.  He  reached 



out  to  the  girls,  wanting  to  explain, 
and  dropped  his  hand.  People  just 
didn't  understand  people.  The  great 
truth  rocked  him.  They  didn't  know 
what  was  inside  each  other  .  .  .  the 
wonderful  things  Miss  Nora  car- 
ried in  her  heart  and  in  her  beauti- 
ful mind,  her  gentleness  .  .  .  the 
misery  in  himself.  If  they  just  knew 
each  other,  like  he  knew  Miss  Nora, 
they  wouldn't  pass  with  such  cold, 
tight  smiles,  everyone  afraid  to  let 
anyone  else  know  how  much  they 
needed  just  words  from  each  other, 
and  little  friendly  pats,  and  good, 
firm  handshakes  when  they  met.  He 
was  crying  again.  He  stepped  back 
into  the  shadows.  What  was  the 
matter  with  him,  anyway?  A  big 
gook.  Bawling  every  five  minutes 
for  nothing  at  all.  Just  because  peo- 
ple were  the  way  they  were.  But 
Miss  Nora  stumbled  and  Timothy 

blundered  out  of  the  shadows  to 
take  her  elbow  and  steady  her. 

"These  foolish  shoes/'  she  said, 
"when  will  I  learn  I'm  an  old  lady 
and  wear  something  becoming  to 
my  years."  She  held  his  arm.  "Was 
.  .  .  it  .  .  .  was  it  nice  at  your  ward, 

"It  was  wonderful,"  he  said. 
"There  was  a  guy  from  Hawaii,  a 
returned  missionary  . . .  wants  me  to 
come  over  to  his  house  and  see 
some  pictures." 

She  did  not  speak  at  all.  She  did 
not  answer  him.  But  when  they 
reached  the  corner  arc  light,  Tim- 
othy saw  her  face  was  wet  with 

Now  why  should  she  be  crying, 
he  wondered,  when  I  feel  real  good 
about  everything.  Real  good.  I  feel 
strong  and  .  .  .  and  like  I  knew 
something  more  than  lots  of  other 

Margery  S.  Stewart  (Mrs.  Russell  S.  Stewart),  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  is 
well  known  to  readers  of  the  Magazine.  She  was  awarded  the  first  prize  in  the 
Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest  in  1947  for  her  story  "The  Return,"  and 
her  poem  "The  Broken  Day"  received  the  third  prize  award  in  the  Eliza  R. 
Snow  Poem  Contest  in  1950.  In  addition  to  many  other  short  stories  and 
poems,  Mrs.  Stewart  has  written  two  serials  for  the  Magazine:  "Joanna" 
(1949)  and  "Through  This  Door"  (concluded  in  January  1952). 

Mrs.  Stewart  is  a  member  of  several  literary  organizations  and  workshops. 
She  has  won  a  number  of  prizes  in  The  Deseret  News  Christmas  story  and 
poem  contests,  including  the  1951  award  for  her  story  "The  Travelers."  A 
recent  honor  to  come  to  her  has  been  the  inclusion  of  her  poem  "Song  for 
a  Daughter"  (first  published  in  Good  Housekeeping  Magazine)  in  the 
anthology  Poetry  Awards  of  1951,  a  collection  of  some  of  the  outstanding 
poems  of  the  year  published  by  the  University  of  Pennsylvania  Press. 

With  reference  to  her  story  'The  Least  of  These"  and  her  present 
activities,  Mrs.  Stewart  writes:  "Since  coming  in  contact  with  one  or  two  of 
the  youngsters  who  are  like  the  young  boy  in  my  story,  I  have  been  much 
concerned  with  their  problems.  I  hope  I  have  managed  to  convey  some- 
thing of  their  great  need  for  love  and  friendship  in  this  story  ....  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  I  treasure  the  wisdom  and  beauty 
presented  in  its  pages  ....  our  daughter  Sandra  is  now  in  her  first  year  of 
high  school,  and  our  son  Russell,  Jr.  is  in  the  first  grade.  I  am  teaching  the 
Blazer  Boys  in  Primary  and  working  in  the  Mutual  Improvement  Associa- 

Truth  Beareth  Record  of  Truth 

Lillie  C.  Adams 

Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

[Digest  of  Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 
October  4,  1951] 

THE  Book  of  Mormon  is  the 
greatest  witness  for  the  Bible, 
for  itself,  and  for  the  Christ. 
Its  advocacy  for  the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  is  iden- 
tical with  that  of  the  Bible.  It  is 
interesting  to  read  in  I  Nephi 
13:20-23  what  is  said  by  Nephi  con- 
cerning the  Bible  coming  forth 
from  the  Jews.  It  is  interesting  al- 
so to  note  in  our  Bible  that  a  book 
shall  come  from  the  dust.  Just  as 
the  Bible  bears  witness  and  testifies 
that  Jesus  is  the  Christ  to  the  peo- 
ple of  the  Eastern  Hemisphere,  so 
does  also  The  Book  of  Mormon  bear 
witness  to  the  Jew,  Gentile,  and 
Lamanite  that  he  is  the  Savior  of 
the  world  to  the  people  of  the  West- 
ern Hemisphere. 

A  knowledge  of  II  Nephi  29  will 
not  only  intensify  our  interest  in  a 
diligent  study  of  The  Book  of  Mor- 
mon in  our  course  of  theology  this 
year,  but  it  also  gives  the  Lord's 
purpose  for  bringing  forth  more 
records  than  one: 

...  A  Bible,  we  have  got  a  Bible,  and 
we  need  no  more  Bible.  Have  ye  ob- 
tained a  Bible  save  it  were  by  the  Jews? 

Know  ye  not  that  there  are  more  na- 
tions than  one?  Know  ye  not  that  I  the 
Lord  your  God,  have  created  all  men, 
*  and  that  I  remember  those  who  are  up- 
on the  isles  of  the  sea;  and  that  I  rule 
in  the  heavens  above  and  in  the  earth 
beneath;  and  I  bring  forth  my  word  unto 
the  children  of  men,  yea,  even  upon  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth? 

Wherefore  murmur  ye,  because  that  ye 
shall  receive  more  of  my  word?  Know  ye 
not  that  the  testimony  of  two  nations  is 
a  witness  unto  you  that  I  am  God,  that 
I  remember  one  nation  like  unto  another? 
Wherefore,  I  speak  the  same  words  unto 
one  nation  like  unto  another.  And  when 
two  nations  shall  run  together  the  testi- 
mony of  the  two  nations  shall  run  to 
gether  also. 

And  I  do  this  that  I  may  prove  unto 
many  that  I  am  the  same  yesterday,  to- 
day, and  forever;  and  that  I  speak  forth 
my  words  according  to  mine  own  pleas- 
ure. And  because  that  I  have  spoken 
one  word  ye  need  not  suppose  that  I  can- 
not speak  another;  for  my  work  is  not 
yet  finished;  neither  shall  it  be  until  the 
end  of  man,  neither  from  that  time  hence- 
forth and  forever. 

Wherefore,    because    that    ye    have    a 
Bible  ye  need  not  suppose  that  it  con 
tains  all  my  words;  neither  need  ye  sup- 
pose that  I  have  not  caused  more  to  be 

For  I  command  all  men,  both  in  the 
east  and  in  the  west,  and  in  the  north, 
and  in  the  south,  and  in  the  islands  of 
the  sea,  that  they  shall  write  the  words 
which  I  speak  unto  them;  for  out  of  the 
books  which  shall  be  written  I  will  judge 
the  world,  every  man  according  to  their 
works,  according  to  that  which  is  written. 

For  behold,  I  shall  speak  unto  the 
Jews  and  they  shall  write  it;  and  I  shall 
also  speak  unto  the  Nephites  and  they 
shall  write  it;  and  I  shall  also  speak  unto 
the  other  tribes  of  the  house  of  Israel, 
which  I  have  led  away,  and  they  shall 
write  it;  and  I  shall  also  speak  unto  all 
nations  of  the  earth  and  they  shall  write 

And  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  the  Jews 
shall  have  the  words  of  the  Nephites,  and 

Page    159 


the  Nephites  shall  have  the  words  of  the  philosophy.     Let  US  hear  what  our 

Jews;   and   the   Nephites   and   the   Jews  prophet  Joseph  Smith  says  regard- 

t^VSAFiVStt  -g  >*PPff .  "Happiness  is  the 

have  the  words  of  the  Nephites  and  the  object  and  design  of  our  existence; 

Jews  (II  Nephi  29:6-13).  and  will  be  the  end  thereof,  if  we 

pursue  the  path  that  leads  to  it; 

TATHAT  is  the  divine  purpose  of  and  this  path  is  virtue,  uprightness, 

VV    each  nation  having  a  record  faithfulness,   holiness  and  keeping 

of  its  own?    Is  there  not  a  plan,  a  aU   the   commandments   of   God'' 

pattern  for  salvation  here  and  here-  (Cachings  of  the  Prophet  Joseph 

after  contained   therein?     All   the  ™£  FP*  25515  j' 

.     .  ,        ,  ,,              ,           t     ,  What  was  the  great  important 

principles  of  the  gospel  are  clearly  ^  ^  Qur  MJex        ^ tQ  ^ 

enunciated  in  The  Book  of  Mor-  bdoved  disdples  Qn  the  Eastem  as 
mon.  Everything  for  the  perfection  weH  as  the  Western  Hemisphere? 
of  the  human  personality  is  plainly  Tne  same  important  truths  concern- 
taught.  In  this  great  book  Christ  ing  tne  Godship,  the  Sonship,  the 
gave  to  the  Nephites  the  Sermon  Hoiy  Spirit-the  Trinity, 
on  the  Mount,  teaching  the  things  It  is  a  priceless  privilege  for  our 
we  should  do  in  our  relationship  to  Relief  Society  sisters  this  year  and 
God  and  to  man.  Today  it  has  in  ensuing  years  to  drink  deep  into 
been  called  the  Magna  Charta  of  the  doctrines  taught  in  our  Book  of 
Christianity.  Also  in  this  great  Mormon,  not  only  to  learn  the 
book,  in  Mosiah  29,  is  contained  doctrine,  but  to  make  practical  ap- 
one  of  the  greatest  documents  of  piication  of  the  truths  taught  there- 
democracy  ever  written.  What  a  in  in  our  daily  lives  It  has  Deen 
recommendation  this  would  be  in  said  that  The  Book  of  Mormon  is 
the  cause  of  peace  if  the  world  the  greatest  tool  in  the  hands  of  the 
would  adopt  this  doctrine.  Yes,  missionaries  in  converting  people  to 
our  Book  of  Mormon  is  filled  with  Christ's  way  of  life.  May  we  not 
pages  of  pearls  of  wisdom  and  doc-  also  say  that  it  is  the  greatest  tool 
trines  of  singular  beauty  and  phil-  in  the  hands  of  mothers  and  fathers 
osophical  values,  which,  if  adopted  in  converting  their  sons  and  daugh- 
as  the  foundation  of  our  lives,  will  ters  to  tne  gospei  0f  jesus  Christ? 
not  only  be  a  source  of  joy  in  this  j  should  like  to  close  with  the 
life,  but  eternal  salvation  m  the  words  of  our  prophet  and  seer, 
world  to  come.  President   David    O.    McKay,    the 

What  is  the  philosophy  of  the  words  he  uttered  on  his  birthday. 

Book    of    Mormon?     The    Lord's  He  said,  "Thanks  most  of  all  for 

words  to  Nephi  in  the  wilderness  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  true 

answer  this  question:  "Inasmuch  as  philosophy  of  a  happy  life  which 

thy  seed  shall  keep  my  command-  sanctifies  and  makes  operative  all 

ments,   they  shall  prosper  in   the  other  blessings."    God  bless  us  in 

land  of  promise."  our  studies  of  The  Book  of  Mormon 

"Wickedness    never   was   happi-  and  all   our   divine   works   is   my 

ness"  contains  the  core  of  Nephite  prayer. 

Relief  Society  and  the  Gospel 


Sai  Lang  Aki 

[Digest  of  Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 
October  4,  1951]    . 

I    GIVE  my  greetings  to  you  all.  what  the  other  sisters  say:  "Oh,  that 

Aloha  nui  loa.    My  heart  is  full  Relief  Society!     It  is  only  for  the 

of  love  for  you,  my  sisters.  aged  people.     You  are  young,  are 

We    read    in    Proverbs    (3:5-6):  you  going  to  that  organization,  and 

"Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  thine  join  with  them?    We  wouldn't  do 

heart;  and  lean  not  unto  thine  own  it." 

understanding.  In  all  thy  ways  I  tell  you,  my  dear  sisters,  the 
acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall  di-  Relief  Society  has  taught  me  many 
rect  thy  paths/'  If  all  the  women  great  and  important  things  pertain- 
in.  the  world  today  could  only  rea-  ing  to  this  work  which  I  have  loved, 
lize  the  beauty  and  expression  ra-  My  first  president,  whom  I  labored 
diated  by  the  Relief  Society  organ-  with  for  twelve  years  as  a  counselor, 
ization.  through  her  inspiration,  taught  me 

We  need  education.     We  need  many  great  things,  and  what  you 

to  be  taught.  This  doesn't  apply  to  see  in  me  today,  it  is  all  through 

you  because  you  are  in  the  land  her  patience  and  love, 

where  there  are  three  wise  women  When  the  call  came  to  my  hus- 

before   you.     We  have   heard   so  band  to  go  to  China,  to  open  that 

much  about  the  three  wise  men,  great   mission,   to   assist   President 

but  to  me  we  have  three  wise  worn-  Hilton  A.  Robertson  and  his  wife, 

en  right  here  this  morning  in  the  we  were  so  happy  to  be  called  to 

Church,   our  presidency.     I   guess  serve  God  and  his  people.  Through 

you  agree  with  me.  that,  we  went  to  China,  and  the 

Through    them   we   receive   the  people  of  China  are  just  like  we 

Magazine,  and  that  Magazine  visits  are  here.     It  was  wonderful  to  be 

us  each  month  as  a  guide  in  the  with  those  people.    The  women  of 

work  of  the  Lord.    This  is  a  great  China  love  to  be  taught;  they  love 

work,  it  is  a  work  of  patience  and  to  learn   the  great  things   in  life, 

love.    It  is  not  done  by  forcing  any  They  love  to  follow  the  right  in- 

person,  but  through  that  love  in  us  structions,  if  they  have  them.    But 

for  the  truthfulness  of  the  gospel,  some  false  teachings  have  directed 

This  reminds  me  of  when  I  was  them  into  false  ways.     Many  peo- 

sixteen.    I  became  a  member  in  the  pie  who  live  there  have  been  many 

Relief  Society  through  my  mother,  years   in   darkness,   but  today   the 

who  is  a  member  of  the  Relief  So-  doors  of  heaven  are  open  to  those 

ciety.    She  encouraged  me  to  join,  people.    The  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 

and  I  went  with  her  and  I  joined,  and  its  fullness  has  been  established 

and  I  found  out  that  it  was  not  in  that  land. 

Page    161 


When  we  were  called  by  Presi-  he  gave  him  to  this  world,  that  we 
dent  David  O.  McKay  to  return,  may  not  perish,  but  we  may  have 
we  folded  up  and  went  home  with  salvation.  God  did  not  send  his 
that  feeling  in  us,  that  some  day,  Son  to  the  world  to  condemn  the 
that  little  seedling  which  we  had  world,  but  through  him  the  world 
planted  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  might  be  saved.  So  this,  dear  sis- 
will  be  a  salvation  to  the  millions  ters,  I  urge  you  to  carry  on  when 
of  the  Chinese  people.  you  return  to  your  different  homes. 

I  have  many  things  in  my  heart  May  the  Lord  bless  you  all,  bless 

that  I  want  to  speak  to  you,  but  also  our  dear  presidency  here,  that 

the  King  shall  answer  and  say,  "In-  they  may  have  health  and  strength, 

asmuch  as  you  have  done  it  unto  I  know  this  is  a  great  work, 

one  of  the  least  of  these  my  bretlv  Before  I  am  seated,  I  am  going 

ren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me."  to  sing  you  one  favorite  song,  when 

I  want  you  to  hear  my  testimony.  I  was  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  (Sister 

I  know  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Aki  sang  "My  Light  Is  But  a  Little 

Christ  is  true.     I  know  that  Jesus  One.") 

is  the  Christ,  the  Only  Begotten  of  May  the  Lord  bless  you  all.    This 

the  Father.    God  so  loved  his  Son  I  ask  in  Jesus'  name. 


cJhe  JLast  Snov 

Ouida  J.  Petersen 

This  is  the  last  snow, 

No  longer  does  it  swoop 

With  widespread  wings 

To  camouflage  the  earth, 

Nor  softly  fall 

With  white  persistence 

Through  the  bitter  night 

Until  its  charity 

Has  covered  all. 

This  is  the  last  snow. 

It  clings  to  branch  and  stem 

Tenaciously  as  if  aware 

Its  moment  is  half  done 

And  beauty  it  has  hoarded 

Winter  long,  may  be  dispelled 

By  one  brief  touch  of  sun. 

Dear  Conquest 

Deone  R.  Sutherland 
Part  i 

WHEN  Maggie  Sullivan  came  us.    'It's  like  summer  was  comin' 

to  Oakville  to  teach  high  instead  of  winter,"  said  My  John, 

school,  we  all  thought  she  It  was,  Maggie  was  that  sunny.  She 

wouldn't  stay  more  than   a  year,  was  a  good  talker  and  could  keep 

Phi  Beta  Kappas  with  poodle  hair-  My  John  checking  his  Bible  along 

cuts  and  six  freckles  across  the  nose  with  the  best  of  them,  when  she 

and  eyes  that  spark  your  heart  on  had  a  mind. 

zero-cold  days  don't  usually  want  Martin   Tulley   who   drives    the 

to  stay  in  Oakville.    Not  that  Oak-  school  bus  told  My  John  that  one 

ville  doesn't  rest  in  the  midst  of  afternoon   when   he   went   to   the 

the  prettiest  mountains  you're  ever  school  early  to  pick  up  the  chil- 

likely  to  see,  and  isn't  blessed  with  dren,  Miss  Sullivan  had  her  whole 

the   best   fishing   in   summer   and  class  up  the  side  of  the  mountain 

skiing  in  winter.    No,  it's  not  that,  reading  poetry  to  them. 

It's  a  scarcity  of  likely  bachelors.    A  "Were  they  listening?"  asked  My 

certain  number  of  girls  marry  boys  John. 

here  every  year,  and  some  go  away  "They  didn't  even  come  down 

and  come  back  with  husbands  or  the   mountain   when   the  bell   let 

wives,  which  is  good  for  the  com-  school  out.    I  went  myself  to  fetch 

munity.     But  we  all  decided  soon  them,"  answered  Martin, 

enough  that  there  wasn't  anyone  "Then  that's  all  that  matters," 

special  enough  for  Maggie  Sullivan,  said  My  John,  and  he  put  a  stop  to 

And  everyone  in  Oakville  knows  the  Martin.     There's  lots  of  ways  of 

importance  of  being  married  and  teaching,  and  the  happiest  are  the 

having  families.  best  ways.    Maggie  seemed  to  know 

Then  Sister  Kirkenson  had  her  all  the  happy  ones, 
nephew  Charlie,  who  is  a  lawyei  Andy  Gillis  who  works  in  the 
down  in  River  City,  come  all  the  bank  asked  Maggie  to  go  to  the  Deer 
way  up  to  Oakville  to  straighten  out  Hunters'  Ball,  but  Maggie  had  al- 
a  deed  from  old  Grandpa  Kirken-  ready  said  yes  to  Charlie  Kirkenson. 
son.  Soon  as  Charlie  met  Maggie  Everybody  in  Oakville  knew  by  the 
he  kept  having  to  come  up  to  work  next  day  that  Andy  Gillis  had  gal- 
on  that  deed.  Brother  Kirken-  lantly  said  to  Maggie  over  the  tele- 
son  stopped  Max  Short  and  re-  phone,  "It's  a  pleasure  to  be  refused 
marked  on  the  amount  of  legal  by  you/"  The  young  boys  snick- 
work  Charlie  was  able  to  find  in  ered  about  it,  but  nobody  said  any- 
Oakville  on  the  week  ends  they  held  thing  to  Andy.  His  temper  was  far 
the  barn  dances  or  special  balls  like  too  hot  for  that, 
the  Deer  Hunters'  or  Harvest.  People  came  from  miles  around 
The  second  month  Maggie  was  to  the  ball.  We  decorated  the  hall 
in  Oakville  she  came  to  board  with  all  day.    School  let  out  early,  and 

Page  163 



Maggie  dropped  by  to  help.  'I've 
never  been  to  one  before/'  said 
Maggie,  brushing  back  her  hair. 
'The  students  say  I  have  to  wear 
red."  She  laughed,  "My  hair  won't 
match."  She  hammered  bunting 
right  along  with  us.  She  was  thin, 
but  wiry,  and  held  up  well.  No  mat- 
ter what  I  gave  her  to  eat,  she  never 
gained  a  pound. 

"I  love  it  here,"  she  said  to  me 
as  we  walked  home  to  get  supper 
and  then  start  fixing  up  for  the  ball. 
I  looked  at  her  kind  of  sideways, 
but  she  was  watching  Indian  Moun- 

"Ira  Scott's  got  a  cabin  up  there," 
I  said.  "Sometimes  he  holes  up 
there  in  the  winter." 

"I  love  that  mountain,"  mur- 
mured Maggie. 

We  older  folks  get  out  of  the 
habit  of  exclaiming  over  the  things 
we  love,  but  it  sounded  all  right 
when  Maggie  said  it.  Everything 
gets  fresh  again  and  dear  when 
someone  says  love  the  way  Maggie 

"I  used  to  walk  barefoot  after 
cows  along  that  Main  Street  here 
in  town  when  I  was  a  little  girl,"  I 
said  laughing. 

"Did  you?"  Maggie  looked  seri- 
ous. "I  never  walked  barefoot  any- 
where. Colds,  you  know.  And  then 
living  in  a  city  is  different.  I  could 
live  here  all  my  life." 

jyfY  John  let  Charlie  in,  and  I 
went  up  to  get  Maggie.  She 
wore  a  soft  pink  shirt  with  the  col- 
lar open  at  her  throat,  and  a  rough 
tweed  skirt  that  made  her  seem 
small  and  dependent,  and  soft, 
brown  velvet  shoes.  "Is  this  close 
enough  to  red?"  she  asked  me. 
"Close  enough,"  I  said,  thinking 

how  it  didn't  hurt  her  hair  any, 
made  her  come  alive  and  glow  with 

My  John  and  I  waited  until 
Charlie  and  Maggie  had  a  good 
start  before  we  switched  off  the 
lights  in  the  house  and  started  out 
too.  Nobody  stayed  home  from 
dances  in  Oakville.  If  you  were 
too  old  to  dance  you  sat  on  the 
benches  and  talked.  We  believed 
in  sociability  and  checking  up  on 
how  things  were  going. 

We  got  there  just  before  the  first 
dance  started,  which  is  the  right 
time  to  get  to  a  dance.  The  hall 
was  crowded,  and  the  brightness  of 
the  color  made  your  breathing  hurt 
for  a  minute. 

"It's  splendid,"  called  Maggie 
going  by  on  Charlie's  arm. 

My  John  led  me  out  for  the  dance. 
He  was  puffing  after  the  first 
one,  and  I  could  see  Mrs.  Gillis 
saving  a  seat  for  us,  so  we  went  to 
the  wall  for  the  next  one. 

"Who's  Andy  got  tonight?"  I 
asked  May  Gillis  to  start  the  con- 

"Allie  Peterson.  I  guess  you 
knew  he  called  up  and  asked  Mag- 

"Yes,"  I  said,  and  then  I  stopped 
listening,  for  someone  else  was  mov- 
ing along  the  edge  of  the  benches, 
sitting  down. 

"There's  Ira  Scott,"  said  May  in 
a  whisper.  "Sour  and  rich  as  ever, 
I  guess." 

My  John  got  up  and  went  over 
to  pass  a  word  or  two  to  Ira.  Ira 
drew  men  to  him,  but  he  was  too 
gruff  and  somber  to  have  much  to 
do  with  the  women,  though  he 
always  nodded  his  dark  head  polite 
enough.    Some  said  he'd  cared  for 


Isabelle    Peterson    who    had    got  fore  long." 

married  at  least  seven  years  ago,  That  was  like  Ira.  When  he'd 

but   May    Gillis    said    he'd    never  bought  the  most  beautiful  filly  in 

cared  for  anybody  except  himself.  the  valley>  and  George  Waters  had 

Sure,  he'd  taken  Isabelle  to  a  dance  remarked  on  it,  Ira  had  said  he  was 

or  two,  but  that  didn't  necessarily  sure  something  was  wrong  with  its 

mean  anything.    My  John  said  he'd  left  hind  foot- 

just  always  worked  too  hard  to  be  Ira  was   a   pretty   good   dancer, 

sociable.    Paying  off  his  Pa's  debts  though  I  never  thought  it  worth 

and  buying  land  and  running  cattle  the  trouble  to  remark  on  it.     He 

can  keep  a  man  lonely  enough  so  would  have  said  he  could  never  keep 

he  forgets  the  bowing  and  scraping  time  with  the  music  or  something 

ways,  equally  depreciating  and  untrue. 

"Being    civil    isn't    bowing    and  I  was  surprised  when  the  dance 

scraping,"  I  said  to  My  John.  "And  was  over  and  Ira  was  guiding  me 

there're  more  important  things  than  over  to  My  John  and  May  Gillis, 

buying  more  cattle  than  you  know  who  had  stopped  on  the  floor  to 

what  to  do  with."  talk  to  Maggie  and  Charlie.     My 

I  guess  I  was  unjustly  critical.  But  John  introduced  Maggie  and  Ira. 
Ira  Scott  was  a  man  of  too  few 

words.    And  he  had  a  way  of  never  "T'VE  seen  you  before,"  said  Ira, 

taking   a   compliment   or   praising  smiling  one  of  his  rare  smiles, 

anything.     My  John   was   coming  "Riding  up  Indian  Mountain." 

back,  and  I  straightened  my  dress  "Yes,"  said  Maggie  smiling  back, 

for  the  third  dance.  "I  hear  you  live  up  there  in  the 

But  I  didn't  have  the  third  dance  winter." 

with  My  John.    Ira  Scott  had  come  "Sometimes  I  do,"  said  Ira.  Then, 

over  with  him,  and  though  I  asked  taking  Maggie's  arm  because  the 

Ira  what  he  wanted  to  be  dancing  music  was  starting  again,  "I  came 

with  an  old  lady  like  me  for,  we  late  so  I  expect  all  your  dances  are 

danced   the   third,   and   My   John  filled." 

danced  with  May  Gillis.    I  noticed  "They  are,"   said   Maggie,   "but 

Maggie  out  on  the  floor  dancing  this  one  is  with  Charlie,  and  maybe 

with  someone  new  again.  She  was  he  won't  mind."  But  Maggie's  smile 

a  belle  all  right,  I  thought.  I  never  was  for  Ira,  not  Charlie, 

had   to   worry  about   conversation  "No,"  said  Charlie,  and  he  of- 

with  Ira.  He  wasn't  much  for  talk-  fered  his  arm  to  me. 

ing.  "My,"   I  said,  "I   never  danced 

"They  say  you  just  got  about  the  with  this  many  young  men  in  one 

best    new    tractor    Oakville's    ever  evening  for  a  good  many  years." 

seen,  Ira,"  I  said.  John  had  to  sit  out  because  he 

He  bent  his  head  to  hear  me,  was  puffing  again, 

and  then,  without  smiling,  he  of-  Charlie  wasn't  as  tall  as  Ira,  but 

fered  laconically,  "I  guess  there  are  he  had  a  nicer  face,  not  so  bony 

better   ones   than   what   Fve   got.  as  Ira's.    And,  of  course,  he  wasn't 

It'll  probably  give  me  trouble  be-  (Continued  on  page  200) 

House  Plants 

Dorthea  N.  Newbold 
Garden  Editor,  The  Deseret  News 

SURELY    it    is    not    necessary  collector,  as  has  happened  so  often 

nowadays  to  try  to  sell  any-  when   one   becomes   interested   in 

one  on  the  idea  of  growing  growing  African  violets;  or  she  may 

house  plants.  The  fact  that  there  become  so  intrigued  with  one  kind 

are  so  many  women  growing  plants  of  plant  that  she  will  try  her  hand 

in  their  homes,  using  them  as  a  at  hybridizing,  just  to  see  if  she, 

part  of  the  decorations,  gives  evi-  too,  can  get  some  new  varieties, 

dence  of  the  pleasure  and  interest  Most  plants  resent  the  hot,  dry 

their  culture  gives.  atmosphere  of  today's  living  rooms. 

The  deep-seated  love  of  growing  It  is  wise  to  keep  in  mind  that 
things  that  is  inherent  in  mankind  many  of  our  plants  are  natives  of 
may  be  satisfied  by  the  nurturing  tropical  forests.  In  their  native 
of  a  window  garden.  Residents  of  habitat  they  received  dim  or  fil- 
our  large  cities,  where  growing  con-  tered  sunlight,  they  lived  in  a  rich, 
ditions  are  worst,  enjoy  and  value  woodsy  soil,  where  the  humidity 
the  single  house  plant  or  dish  gard-  was  very  high.  Ferns  and  palms  and 
en  even  more  than  do  the  home-  many  of  our  foliage  plants  are  ex- 
makers  in  the  rural  areas.  amples.    African  violets,  natives  of 

Many  invalids  and  shut-ins  can  East  Africa,  thrive  very  well  in  dim 

find  pleasure  and  an  absorbing  hob-  light,  in  fact  many  of  our  collectors 

by  in  growing  and  caring  for  a  col-  have  been  quite  successful  in  raising 

lection  of  house  plants,  especially  the  violets  under  fluorescent  lights, 

if  they  are  given  slips  and  small  Other  plants,  such  as  cacti,  whose 

plants  to  raise,  or  seeds  of  some  new  native  habitat  is  the  desert,  enjoy 

kinds  of  flowers.    Interest  is  always  full  sun. 

high  if  there  is  a  new  plant  coming  Some  plants  are  much  happier  if 

into  bloom  to  claim  attention.  they  are  not  placed  in  a  window 

With  nearly  1,000  different  kinds  where  they  become  subject  to  the 

of  plants  suitable  for  growing  in  extreme  heat  and  cold  of  the  win- 

the  house,  there  is  no  reason  why  dow  sill.    On  a  cold  day  the  tem- 

one  having  a  love  for  plants  should  perature   may   become   twenty   to 

fail  in  her  efforts  to  grow  them,  twenty-five  degrees  lower  than  the 

Decorators  encourage  their  use  in  rest  of  the  room,  and  hence,  may 

the  homes  by  providing  plant  boxes  be  the  cause  of  a  plant  going  into 

and  plant  shelves,  and  large  win-  a  rest  period,  just  when  you  were 

dows  in  some  homes  provide  ample  hoping  for  a  crop  of  flowers.    If  a 

light  needed  for  their  good  growth,  plant  isn't  doing  too  well  we  might 

Often  the  acquisition  of  a  single  try   moving   it   either   to   a   plant 

potted  plant  will  start  a  homemaker  stand  or  place  it  on  a  shelf  away 

off  on  the  pathway  of  a  delightfully  from  the  window, 

different  hobby.  She  may  become  a  Humidity,  or  the  lack  of  it,  is  one 

Page  166 



of  the  big  contributing  factors  to 
the  success  or  failure  of  a  window 

All  plants  transpire  an  enormous 
amount  of  water  every  day,  as  the 
sides  of  porous  pots  and  the  soil 
give  up  water  vapor.  The  plant  must 
have  an  ample  supply  of  water  to 
replace  that  which  is  lost  through 
transpiration.  The  drier  the  air  of 
the  living  room,  the  more  moisture 
is  given  off  by  the  plants,  and  the 
greater  will  be  the  need  for  water. 
Therefore,  the  larger  number  of 
plants  you  are  growing,  the  higher 
the  humidity  will  be,  and  better  and 
healthier  plants  will  result. 

To  be  sure  that  the  air  is  humid 
enough  for  plants,  many  house  plant 
raisers  have  tin  trays  made  about 
two  inches  deep  to  fit  the  window 
sills.  They  are  filled  with  a  one- 
inch  layer  of  pebbles  to  set  the  pots 
on,    and    then    filled    with    water. 

These  trays  simplify  the  task  of  car- 
ing for  the  plants. 

A  good  practice  to  follow  if  you 
can  do  so  without  injuring  cur- 
tains is  to  spray  the  plants  each 
morning,  using  a  regular  bulb  spray, 
which  produces  a  fine  mist.  How- 
ever, if  you  have  hairy-leaved  plants, 
such  as  African  violets  and  glox- 
inias—they resent  water  on  their 
leaves.  Use  a  very  soft  brush  such 
as  a  baby's  hair  brush  to  clean  the 
leaves  off. 

When  a  newly  purchased  plant 
has  been  in  your  home  only  a  short 
time,  some  of  the  leaves  may  turn 
yellow  and  drop  off.  This  is  not  a 
matter  for  great  concern  or  worry 
unless  an  unusual  number  fall.  The 
change  from  the  greenhouse  to 
your  living  room  is  the  cause.  Very 
soon  the  plant  will  adjust  to  its  new 
living  conditions.- 

Boyd  Bullough 




Hal  Rumel 


Soil  for  house  plants  is  of  im- 
portance. It  must  be  fibrous  and 
porous  enough  so  that  an  over- 
supply  of  water  will  quickly  drain 
off  the  roots,  yet  it  must  be  quite 
nourishing.  The  use  of  leaf  mold 
is  recommended  for  most  mixtures. 
A  good  general  purpose  soil  mixture 
is  one  made  of  two  parts  leaf  mold 
four  parts  garden  loam,  and  one  and 
one-half  parts  well-rotted  manure. 

Some  plants  want  a  special  soil 
mixture,  and  the  plant  specialist 
usually  has  his  own  ideas  about 
that.  A  good  mixture  for  potting 
cacti  is  to  use  four  parts  loam,  two 
parts  sand,  one  part  leaf  mold,  and 
one  part  broken  charcoal. 

Drainage  is  of  great  importance. 
If  the  plants  are  allowed  to  become 
water-logged,  the  roots  are  denied 
the  oxygen  they  need  to  carry  on 
the  plant  functions,  the  plants  soon 
turn  yellow  and  die.  To  provide 
proper  drainage  in  planting,  place 
a  piece  of  broken  pot,  concave  in 
shape,  over  the  drainage  hole  of  the 

pot  to  keep  the  soil  from  washing 
out.  Next,  use  an  inch  layer  of  small 
pebbles  over  the  piece  of  broken 
pot,  then  a  layer  of  soil.  Place  the 
plant  in  the  pot  and  fill  in  around 
the  sides  with  soil,  firm  well,  leaving 
at  least  one-half  inch  of  space  at  the 
top  of  the  pot  for  watering. 

There  are  available  wick-watered 
pots  for  growing  plants  that  resent 
water  around  their  leaves  and 
crowns.  Wick- watering  is  the  meth- 
od whereby  water  is  drawn  by 
capillary  action  from  a  lower  reser- 
voir up  through  a  wick  to  the  soil. 
The  preferred  wick  is  of  glass  fiber. 
The  wick  is  pushed  up  through  the 
drainage  hole  and  is  frayed  out  and 
spread  out  over  the  inside  of  the 
pot,  resting  right  on  the  bottom. 
There  is  no  need  for  drainage  ma- 
terial when  a  wick  is  used.  This 
type  of  watering  is  especially  use- 
ful in  keeping  the  soil  evenly  moist 
at  all  times.  Some  gardeners  advise 
that  the  reservoir  be  allowed  to  go 
dry  once  in  a  while,  as  it  seems  to 


do  the  plants  good  to  dry  off  for  need  to  be  fed  until  the  pots  are 

a  day  or  so.    Gloxinias  and  African  full  of  roots.    It  is  a  simple  thing 

violets  thrive  under  wick  watering.  to  turn  the  plant  from  the  pot  to 

"Please  tell  me,  how  much  water  see  if  the  roots  naye  filled  the  pot. 

shall  I  give  my  plants,  and  how  of-  If  the  bal1  is  filled  with  roots>  You 

ten  should  they  be  watered?"  How  ™y  assume  jt  *  ready  to  be  fed- 

often  we  hear  that  question!    The  JhfIQ,  are  T7  ^d  fertilizers  on 

.    ..j        j         .r     .         £  today  s   markets   which   are   good, 

answer  is,  it  depends  on  the  type  of  T,    ;                .               ,         R 

,    L               r               rs  '  i  Ihey  are  easy  to  use  and  are  clean, 

plant  you  are  growing     Cacti,  sue-  too/  a      , '  follow  directions  on 

culents,  and  dish  gardens  do  not  the  bottles.  Never  feed  a  plant  when 

require  as  much  water  nor  as  fre-  ft  js  dry  water  it  first, 

quent  applications  as   do  fuchsias  Do  not  allow  your  plants  to  be- 

and    begonias    or    philodendrons.  come  tall  and  scraggly  looking.    It 

Watch  the  plants  and  give  them  [s  much  better  to  use  a  little  ju- 

lukewarm    water    when    the    soil  dicious  pinching  back,  and  to  grow 

seems  dry  to  the  touch.  Save  rain  new  starts  than  to  fuss  over  an  old, 

and    snow   water   for   your   house  misshapen    plant.     Take    cuttings, 

plants,  and  watch  them  grow.  Nev-  stem  or  leaf,  and  root  by  placing 

er  allow  plants  to  stand  in  a  jardi-  them  in  a  pot  of  peat  moss  and 

niere  full  of  water.     Plants  must  Sand,  a  half-and-half  mixture.  Keep 

have  water,  but  they  will  die  if  their  the  slips  covered  with  a  glass  jar  to 

roots  are  kept  constantly  in  water,  prevent  wilting.  It  is  easy  to  keep 

Every  perennial  plant  has  a  rest-  a  number  of  young  plants  coming 

ing  period,  and  all  who  grow  house  along   for   replacements,   and   also 

plants  should  take  this  into  con-  to  have  on  hand  to  give  to  friends, 

sideration  and  treat  plants  accord-  No  matter  what  kind  of  plants 

ingly.    The  resting  period  may  be-  you  have  in  your  window  garden, 

come  apparent  by  just  a  lack  of  whether    a    collection    of    scented 

flowers,    or    a    lack    of    any    new  geraniums,  a  few  of  the  more  than 

growth,  or  in  some  cases  by  the  com-  six  hundred  known  varieties  of  be- 

plete  loss  of  leaves,  as  is  the  case  gonias,     some     of     the     beautiful 

with  gloxinias.    During  the  natural  amaryllis,  or  any  of  the  new  foliage 

resting  period,  it  is  wise  to  give  less  plants,   their  use  will  give  added 

water,  no  fertilizer,  and,  if  possible,  beauty  to  your  home,  and  added 

a   lower   temperature,    during   the  pleasure  to  your  family  and  to  you, 

resting  period.  the  gardener. 

After  repotting,  a  plant  will  not  Happy  Gardening! 

LKoyai  LKaiment 

Pansy e  H.  Powell 

Soon  we  shall  see  our  city  wear, 
Like  royalty  of  old, 

Her  new  spring  costume  richly  decked 
With  rows  of  crocus  goldl 

The  Wearing  of  the  Gay 

Frances  Carter  Yost 

GRANNY   O'Donnell  felt  all  Granny  shook  her  fist  at  the  house 

seventy  of  her  years  drag  as  and  the  evergreens, 

she  walked  the  four  blocks  She    turned    the    key    in    the 

from  the  depot  to  her  little  white  lock,  and  as  she  let  herself  in,  she 

and  green  trimmed  cottage.     Her  murmured:   "That's  what's  in  me 

old  black  leather  purse  under  her  craw.    False  pride  is  what's  pullin' 

arm  wasn't  heavy  any  more.    And  me  spirits  down  to  rock  bottom, 

there  wasn't  enough  money  left  in  Gettin'  too  proud  to  be  seen  gettin' 

the  purse  to  bother  clenching  it  on  that  train  at  five  p.m.  this  day 

tightly,  as  she  had  when  she  went  with  me  same  old  plush  coat  and 

to  the  station.  this  old  hat  with  the  chicken  feath- 

"A  ticket  to  Ireland  and  return  er.  And  me  a  carrin'  this  old  car- 
costs  as  much  as  St.  Patrick  prob-  petbag  which  is  packed  for  the  tak- 
ably  would  a'paid  for  the  whole  in'.  Yes,  sir,  lettin'  false  pride  swal- 
of  the  Emerald  Isle,"  she  mur-  low  me  up  hook,  bait,  and  Irish 
mured.     "Why,  with  prices  doub-  catfish." 

ling    and     tripling,     there's     nary  Granny  gave  the  door  a  bit  of  a 

enough  left  to  buy  the  coat  and  hat  slam  for  emphasis.     Releasing  the 

me  figured  on  buying  in  Salt  Lake  hat  pin,  she  removed  her  hat.  Then 

City."  she  noticed  her  reflection  in  the 

As  Granny  turned  the  corner  and  hall  mirror.  This  time  she  did  not 
caught  sight  of  her  home,  her  pace  address  the  house  or  the  door,  but 
quickened.  The  little,  squatty  her  own  reflection.  "Patricia  O'Don- 
house,  with  its  beak  of  a  front  porch,  nell,  I'm  ashamed  of  ye.  Here  this 
somehow  reminded  Granny  of  a  dear  old  coat  has  served  ye  well 
big  Kildare  County  hen  begging  these  twenty  years  like  an  old  friend, 
her  to  get  under  its  wing.  The  ever-  warmin'  yer  bones  every  time  ye 
greens  near  the  doorstep  were  beck-  steps  out  of  the  house,  and  ye  want- 
oning Granny  to  stay  here  in  this  in'  to  kick  hat,  coat,  and  carpetbag 
dear  home  forever.  aside  to  make  a  showin'  in  front  of 

"Begorry,  there's  nary  a  chance  a  yer  friends  as  the  train  pulls  out. 

coaxin'  me  to  stay,  pretty  house,"  Now,    ya    listen    to    me,    Patricia 

she  said.    "Patricia  O'Donnell  made  O'Donnel,  the  important  thing  is 

up  me  mind  years  ago  when  once  the  goin'  to  Ireland  and  the  gettin' 

me  laid  hands  to  enough  money  the  genealogy  of  your  ancestry.  The 

I'd  take  meself  back  to  dear  old  important  thing  isn't  the  clothes  ya 

Emerald  Isle  for  to  gather  me  gen-  go  in. 

ealogy.    And  stir  me  up  for  Irish  "The  very  idea,  considerin'  spend- 

pancakes,   I'll  make  the  trip  if  I  in'  the  rest  of  yer  days  in  Ireland 

have  to  go  in  the  togs  I  been  a  'stead  of  Zion,  so  ye  could  have 

wearin'   these  past   twenty  years."  money  for  extras.    Ye'll  get  on  that 

Page   170 



train  with  your  head  high  and  a 
smile  on  yer  face,  and  ye'll  come 
back  wearin'  the  same  smile  and 
the  same  coat,  ya  understand? 

'  'Course  I  realize,  Patricia,  how 
ye  feel.  If  ye  was  dressed  better, 
yer  relatives  over  in  the  Emerald 
Isle  would  believe  ye  when  ye  tells 
'em  what  a  grand  and  glorious  place 
America  really  is.  Course,  I  un- 
derstand these  clothes  might  give 
'em  some  wrong  notions  about  how 
nice  Zion's  been  to  you.  But  yer 
wearin'  em,  and  proud,  ya  under- 

Granny  hung  her  coat  carefully 
on  a  hanger,  placed  the  hat  on  the 
hall  shelf,  and  went  into  the  living 
room.  A  flame  burned  low  on  the 
hearth.  Granny  placed  a  pine 
bough  on  the  fire  and  watched  a 
cone  sputter.  "Begorry,  a  fire  takes 
away  the  March  chill/'  she  said. 

The  old  walnut-paneled  room, 
which  reflected  dignity  and  an  air 
of  its  Irish  owner,  seemed  to  put  a 
comforting  arm  about  her.  She 
dropped  into  the  rocker  by  the  fire- 
place. "I  'spect  I'll  just  miss  Relief 
Society  today.  Much  better  I'd 
rather  spend  me  last  hours  here 
alone  than  mix  with  the  crowd. 
Sure  and  I'll  sit  meself  here  till  time 
to  make  the  train.  True,  'twill  be 
the  first  Tuesday  to  see  me  not  at- 
tendin'  the  society.  But  'tis  few 
will  miss  old  Granny  O'Donnell. 
Why  t'was  only  the  day  before  this 
that  I  put  meself  forward  and  went 
strollin'  round  to  the  various  homes 
fixin'  to  say  goodbye." 

QRANNY  leaned  her  head  back 

on  the  rocker  headrest,  then,  as 

though    the    clock    reversed    itself 

twenty-four  hours,  it  was  Monday 

when  Granny  had  put  her  coat  on 
and  went  around  the  village  call- 
ing on  friends.  .  .  . 

The  first  house  Granny  had 
stopped  at  was  Bessie  Moore's,  sec- 
retary of  the  Relief  Society.  Granny 
rang  the  door  bell,  and  Bessie  op- 
ened the  door  herself.  At  sight  of 
Granny  O'Donnell,  Bessie  quickly 
whisked  something  pink  she  was 
sewing  behind  her. 

"Come  in,  Granny,"  she  said. 

Bessie  always  washed  on  Monday, 
but  today  she  had  her  sewing  ma- 
chine out.  Draped  over  the  table 
was  a  beautiful  brunch  coat  of  flow- 
ered silk. 

"Bessie,  me  girl,"  said  Granny, 
"if  yer  fingers  are  not  busy  sewin' 
for  the  Society  ye  are  sewin'  for 
someone  else.  Now  who,  pray  tell, 
is  this  pretty  kimono  for?" 

Bessie  cleared  her  throat.  "Gran- 
ny, my  Bessie  Bell  goes  to  college 
this  year,"  but  her  voice  was  un- 

"Sure,  and  she'll  be  a  pretty  gal 
when  she  wraps  herself  in  this 
flowered  kimono,"  Granny  said 
with  a  twinkle.  "Well,  Bessie,  since 
yer  sewin'  'stead  of  washin'  today, 
and  I  can't  hang  the  clothes  on  the 
line  for  ye,  t'will  be  leavin'  I  will." 

"See  you  at  meeting  tomorrow," 
Bessie  had  called  after  her. 

QRANNY  had  stopped  next  at 
Helen  Morgan's,  president  of 
the  society.  She  rang  the  door  bell, 
three  short  ones,  which  Helen  knew 
was  Granny's  code,  then  she  walked 
in.  Helen  wasn't  washing  either 
this  bright  March  Monday.  Funny, 
Granny  thought,  Helen  Morgan 
always  washed  on  Monday,  rain  or 
shine.    She  was  pressing  blouses. 


"Good  morning,  Granny.     Nice  suit  on  the  hall  tree.     "Probably 

day  isn't  it?"  and  Helen  went  on  Helen's     girls     left     them     there 

placidly  pressing  each  blouse.  thoughtlessly.    Helen  waits  on  the 

"Land     sakes,     Sister     Morgan,  family  hand,  foot,  and  heart,"  Gran- 

when    I   seen   the   line   empty   o'  ny  murmured  to  herself, 

clothes  me  thought  ye  was  sick  in  Sarah  Hall's  home  was  Granny's 

yer  bed  with  yer  feet  on  a  pillow,"  next  stop.    Granny  went  around  to 

Granny   laughed.     "Come   over   I  the  back  door.     "Sarah  will  prob- 

did,  to  fix  ye  some  soup."  ably  be  in  her    utility    room    this 

"Well,  now,  Granny,  a  person  can  cheerful  mornin'  an'  won't  hear  me 

vary  her  life  a  little.     Today  I'm  a  knockin'  at  the  front,"  Granny 

pressing."  murmured. 

Helen  Morgan  was  calm  on  all  oc-  But  Sarah  wasn't  x  washing.  As 
casions,  a  quality  which  made  her  she  swung  the  door  open  for  Gran- 
equal  to  the  position  of  president  ny  a  fragrant  aroma  of  baking  cook- 
of  the  organization.  Helen  rested  ies  rushed  out  to  fill  Granny's  nos- 
her  iron  and  smoothed  her  dark  hair  trils.  As  they  entered,  Sarah  threw 
over  her  ears  and  into  the  bun  at  a  clean  tea  towel  over  a  fancy  box 
the  nape  of  her  neck.  she  was  packing. 

"Land   sakes,   if  ya   won't  look  "Have  a  cookie,  Granny."  Sarah 

fancy,    Sister   Morgan,   dressed   in  was  considered  the  best  cook  in  the 

those  colors  o'  blouses.    White  ye'll  village.     She    worked    quickly   be- 

be  wearin'  on  funeral  days,  pink  for  tween  rolling,  cutting,  and  watching 

Sunday   mornings,   an'   yellow   for  the  cookies  in  the  oven.     "These 

Relief  Society  meeting.    Land,  but  are   a    new   kind,    Granny,    called 

that  green  blouse  takes  me  eye."  Scotch    bread.     Try    them."     She 

There  hadn't  ever  been  time  or  handed  a  plate  to  Granny, 

money  in  Granny's  life  to  think  of  "Sure  an  I  could  tell  it  was  Scotch 

fancy  blouses  and  tailored  suits.    A  by    the    size,"    Granny    laughed, 

film  came  over  Granny's  eyes,  but  "Sarah,  believe  me,  ye  could  take 

her  mouth  wore  its  usual  smile.  the  prize  for  bakin'  at  the  world 

Helen   Morgan   noticed   Granny  fair."    Granny  reached  for  another 

fighting  for  control.     She  quickly  cookie.    "But  ye're  too  busy  to  be 

changed  the  subject  from  clothing,  bothered  with  a  gabber  like  o'  me. 

"Granny,  we'll  be  expecting  you  to  And  far  be  it  from  Patricia  O'Don- 

Relief  Society  tomorrow,  same  as  nell   to   interfere   with   a   person's 

always.    Then  I'll  drive  you  to  the  bakin'."     And  Granny  started  for 

station  in  time  to  catch  the  five  the  door. 

p.m.  train  for  Salt  Lake  City."  Helen  "See  you  at  the  meeting  tomor- 

hung  the  last  blouse  on  its  hanger.  row,"  Sarah  called  from  the  range. 

"Now,  that's  right  nice  of  ye,"  Granny  made  short  calls  on  Mar- 
Granny  said.  "Well,  it's  best  I  push  tha  Tingey,  Hannah  Jones,  and 
on.  Wanted  to  visit  a  little  today,  Mary  Stone,  the  organist  of  the  Re- 
this  bein'  me  last."  lief  Society.    Queer  thing,  not  one 

As  Granny  went  out  of  the  front  of  the  ladies  had  washed  this  Mon- 

door  she  noticed  a  gray  and  a  green  (Continued  on  page  203) 

cJhe  uvea   Cross  ana  cits  (yield  of  Service 


[Supplied  by  the  Office  of  Public  Relations  and  Public  Information,  American 
National  Red  Cross] 

The  1952  Red  Cross  fund  appeal  comes  at  a  time  of  continuing 
world-wide  crisis  that  demands  a  great  voluntary  effort  on  the  part  of 
everyone,  since  military  strength  alone  cannot  solve  the  problems  created 
by  this  crisis. 

Each  day  volunteers  in  towns  and  cities  throughout  the  country  carry 
on  a  staggering  program.  Blood  is  collected  and  made  available  to  the 
armed  forces  and  to  civilian  hospitals;  able-bodied  and  hospitalized  service- 
men and  women  are  assisted  in  a  thousand  ways;  disaster  sufferers  receive 
emergency  care  and  shelter  as  well  as  long-term  rehabilitation  aid. 

Through  less  dramatic  programs  of  service,  the  Red  Cross  trains 
nurse's  aides,  home  nurses,  and  first  aiders,  all  of  whom  provide  a  founda- 
tion for  civil  defense  and  self  help.  The  Red  Cross  gives  our  children  an 
opportunity  to  serve  their  community,  nation,  and  world— thus  preparing 
them  for  the  responsibilities  of  citizenship.  In  the  fields  of  health  and 
safety  the  Red  Cross  stands  ready  to  give  us  instruction,  training,  and  in- 
formation. Internationally,  it  helps  to  make  the  facilities  and  advantages 
of  our  country  available  to  other  countries  and  peoples  in  need. 

The  Red  Cross  has  a  far-reaching  effect  upon  the  life  of  every 
American,  especially  during  these  uncertain  times.  Let's  do  our  part  to 
keep  the  services  of  the  Red  Cross  geared  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  na- 
tion and  all  its  citizens.  Answer  the  call  of  the  Red  Cross  today  so  that 
Red  Cross  can  answer  the  call  of  Americans  tomorrow. 

valley  Crlills 

Evelyn  Fjeldsted 

The  silver  chain  of  circled  hills 
Reaches  high  to  gather  snow 
To  store  within  the  deepest  links 
Where  cradled  rivulets  may  grow. 

Springtime  climbs  the  heights  along 
The  stream-designed,  snow-beveled  drills; 
The  valley  holds  the  secret  of 
Creation  with  the  silent  hills, 

Roughly  chiseled  trails  lead  up 
To  pinnacled  and  sun-bleached  rocks, 
To  mighty  weather-sculptured  cliffs 
That  guard  the  fields  and  waiting  flocks. 

Changing  with  each  season's  mood, 
Harmonizing  softly  with  the  land, 
Wrestling,  too,  with  winter's  strength, 
Valley  hills  unfathomed  stand. 

Page   173 

Sixty    LJears  KsLgo 

Excerpts  from  the  Woman's  Exponent,  March  1,  and  March  15,  1892 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY— Programme  of  Exercises.  (The  general  Jubilee  meet- 
ing will  be  held  in  the  Assembly  Hall  or  Large  Tabernacle  in  Salt  Lake  City,  com- 
mencing at  10  a.m.,  Thursday,  March  17,  1892,  it  being  fifty  years  since  the  first 
organization,  March  17,  1842.): 

Singing  by  the  Tabernacle  Choir,  Prof.  E.  Stephens,  Musical  Director 

The  Grand  Invocation,  by  Eliza  R.  Snow,  "O  My  Father,  Thou  That  Dwellest." 

Prayer  by  President  Angus  M.  Cannon. 

Singing,  "How  Firm  a  Foundation,  Ye  Saints  of  the  Lord." 

Opening  Address,  President  Zina  D.  H.  Young. 

Reading,  The  Revelation  to  Emma  Smith,  Mrs.  Zina  Y.  W.  Card. 

Reading  a  sketch  of  the  Relief  Society  prepared  for  the  occasion. 

Singing  by  the  Choir,  Original  Song  by  Mrs.  Emily  H.  Woodmansee,  "The 
Daughters  of  Zion!  The  Friends  of  the  Poor." 

Addresses  by  Counselors,  Mrs.  Jane  S.  Richards  and  Mrs.  Bathsheba  W.  Smith. 

Addresses  by  the  Apostles. 

Speech  by  Mrs.  Sarah  M.  Kimball,  Secretary,  and  Mrs.  M.  Isabella  Home, 

Sentiments,  The  Relief  Society  and  the  Women  of  Zion,  Mrs.  E.  B.  Wells, 
Cor.  Sec'y. 

Anthem,  "Daughter  of  Zion,  Awake  From  Thy  Sadness." 

Prayer  at  High  Noon,  By  One  of  the  First  Presidency. 

*  *  *  *  * 

THE  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION  will  afford  an  opportunity  for  world-wide 
representation,  such  as  never  has  been  known  in  the  history  of  this  continent.  The 
great  and  growing  West  with  its  boundless  possibilities  is  still  comparatively  unknown 
to  the  Western  world.  The  World's  Fair  of  1893  will  give  such  grand  opportunities  for 
celebrity  as  have  never  before  been  accessible  ....  Utah  is  positively  coming  to  the 
front  in  the  van  of  the  states  .  .  .  holding  out  splendid  inducements  for  men  of  means, 
of  skill  and  ingenuity  to  make  available  her  native  products. — Editorial 


I  wakened  to  the  singing  of  a  bird; 

I  heard  the  bird  of  spring, 

And  lo! 

At  his  sweet  note 

The  flowers  began  to  grow  .... 

As  if  the  green  world  heard 

The  trumpet  of  his  tiny  throat  .... 

— Mrs.  James  T.  Fields 

Lindsay  was  pleased  with  the  reports  given,  spoke  of  the  importance  of  attending 
meetings  often  ....  Coun.  Elizabeth  Collings  bore  a  faithful  testimony  to  the  truth 
of  this  work  ....  "May  we  strive  to  be  faithful  that  we  may  have  clear  consciences  .  .  .  ." 
Coun.  Lizzie  Hart  spoke  of  filling  the  mission  of  assisting  the  sick  and  poor,  also  of 
improving  now  and  not  waiting  for  a  better  time  to  come  to  improve  the  oppor- 
tunities ....  — Sylvia  Broomhead,  Cor.  Sec'y. 

Page  174 

Woman's    Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 

/CONCLUDING  an  American- 
Danish  pact  in  Copenhagen, 
Mrs.  Eugenie  Anderson,  the  Unit- 
ed States  Ambassador  to  Denmark, 
has  become  the  first  woman  to  sign 
a  treaty  for  the  United  States  which 
includes  the  following  three  points: 
friendship,  commerce,  and  naviga- 

1  l  HORTON,  former  president 
of  Wellesley  College,  is  the  first 
woman  to  become  a  member  of  the 
board  of  directors  of  Radio  Cor- 
poration of  America. 

MRS.  RUTH  MAY  FOX,  former 
1  l  president  of  the  Y.W.M.I.A., 
became  ninety-eight  years  old  on 
November  sixteenth.  She  followed, 
this  year,  her  usual  custom  of  send- 
ing to  her  friends  Christmas  cards, 
on  which  was  printed  an  original 
poem— one  of  power  and  beauty. 

U  Willard  B.)  Richards,  of  Salt 
Lake  City,  who  turned  ninety-five 
on  the  twelfth  of  December,  died 
January  25,  1952.  Though  her 
body  was  confined  to  bed  for  some 
time  preceding  her  death,  her  mind 
moved  clearly  and  commandingly. 
She  astonished  her  friends  with  her 
accurate  memory.  A  daughter  says, 
"Company,  to  Mother,  was  like  a 
blood  transfusion— she  picked  up 

/~^N  November  twenty-sixth,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Heber  Pehrson,  of  Salt 
Lake  City,  celebrated  their  sixty- 
first  wedding  anniversary.  Their 
twelve  sons  and  daughters  were 
born  in  Fairview,  Utah. 

five,  is  the  first  woman  to  be- 
come mayor  of  a  large  Canadian 
city,  in  this  case,  the  capital,  Otta- 

TUCY  SMITH  (Mrs.  Thomas  B.) 
Cardon,  of  Logan,  Utah,  former 
Relief  Society  general  board  mem- 
ber, celebrated  her  hundredth  birth- 
day on  January  fifth.  She  is  still 
mentally  alert  and  delightful.  She 
enjoyed  a  wonderful  party,  receiv- 
ing telegrams  and  floral  remem- 
brances from  many  Church  and 
civic  officials.  Her  own  ward  Re- 
lief Society  organization  sent  a  hun- 
dred red  roses.  Seven  of  her  eleven 
children  are  living,  and  fifty-nine 
grand,  great,  and  great-great  grand- 

gMMA  DUNN  KING,  of  Wen- 
dell, Idaho,  great-granddaughter 
of  Parley  P.  Pratt,  has  published 
articles  and  poetry,  teaches  Relief 
Society  classes,  and  has  been  elect- 
ed National  Committeewoman  of 
the  Young  Democratic  Clubs  of 

Pag«   175 


VOL  39 

MARCH  1952 

NO.  3 

J\    lllessacje  to  [Relief  Society 

"1I71TH  the  return  of  Anniversary 
Day  each  year,  Relief  Society 
women  the  world  over  are  led  to 
contemplate  anew  the  divine  origin 
and  mission  of  this  great  woman's 
auxiliary  of  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints.  We 
are  led  to  consider  our  individual 
responsibilities  toward  it,  and  we 
resolve  in  our  hearts,  perhaps,  to 
measure  up  more  fully  to  what  is 
expected  of  us. 

The  work  of  Relief  Society  is 
manifold  and  great,  the  mission  of 
the  Society  divine.  The  prophets  of 
the  Lord,  with  inspired  vision,  have 
pointed  the  path  and  directed  the 
course  of  the  Society  since  the  days 
of  its  founding. 

Said  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith: 
'This  Society  is  not  only  to  relieve 
the  poor,  but  to  save  souls."  Presi- 
dent Brigham  Young,  referring  to 
its  functions,  specified:  "These  So- 
cieties are  for  the  improvement  of 
our  manners,  our  dress,  our  habits, 
our  methods  of  living."  President 
Lorenzo  Snow,  directing  the  Society 
along  educational  lines,  declared: 
'The  Society  should  deal  with  sub- 
jects that  tend  toward  the  eleva- 
tion and  advancement  of  women 
in  all  lines  of  thought  and  action 
that  benefit  humanity."  President 
Joseph  F.  Smith,  referring  to  the 
mission  of  Relief  Society,  said:  "It 
is  not  designed  to  look  only  after 
the  poor  and  the  needy  as  to  their 
bodily  necessities,  but  it  is  also  in- 
tended to  look  after  the  spiritual, 

Page  176 

mental,  and  moral  welfare  of  the 
mothers  and  daughters  in  Zion,  and 
all  who  are  engaged  or  interested  in 
female  work." 

President  Heber  J.  Grant  defined 
the  Society  as  a  "service  institu- 
tion," saying,  "This  institution  is 
built  upon  service."  President 
George  Albert  Smith,  addressing  a 
Priesthood  session  of  a  general 
Church  conference,  referred  to  the 
work  of  Relief  Society  as  follows: 
"Through  that  great  organization, 
the  Relief  Society,  begun  by  the 
Prophet  Joseph  Smith,  was  given  to 
womankind  the  dispensation  of  rep- 
resenting the  Lord,  in  their  way,  as 
daughters,  as  wives,  as  mothers, 
and  as  representatives  of  their  kind 
in  all  the  world." 

From  our  present  beloved  First 
Presidency   have   come   impressive 
words.    At  the  general  conference 
in  1950,  President  David  O.  McKay 
emphasized  the  growing  power  and 
influence    of    Relief    Society    and 
urged  "that  increased  attention  be 
given  and  more  intensified  efforts 
put  forth  to  maintain  and  preserve 
the  dignity  of  motherhood  ...  to 
perpetuate  the  truth  that  home  is 
the  true  foundation  upon  which  is 
built    the    structure    of    true    civi- 
lized Christian  society."    President 
Stephen  L  Richards,  speaking  to  us 
in  our  last  general  conference,  said: 
"I've  always  said  that  if  two  things 
in  this  Church  were  right  everything 
else  would  be  right.  The  Priesthood 
and  the  home  are  those  two  things. 



You,  [Relief  Society]  of  course,  are 
chiefly  responsible  for  one  of  them, 
or  largely  so,  and  you  can  help  in- 
finitely in  the  other  one/' 

President  J.  Reuben  Clark,  Jr., 
addressing  a  Relief  Society  general 
conference  in  1949,  told  the  sisters: 
'The  Relief  Society  is  the  hand- 
maid of  the  Priesthood  of  God  in 
carrying  on  his  work  for  the  salva- 
tion of  men."  He  prayed  that  God 
might  give  us  the  vision  of  the  true 
homemaker,  that  we  might  be  able 
to  save  by  this  course  not  only  Zion, 
but  the  world.  "And  that  is  your 
destiny,  and  ours,"  said  President 
Clark,  "to  save  the  world." 

Pondering  upon  these  statements 
of  our  prophets,  we  are  led  to  ex- 
claim, what  a  mighty  and  noble 
mission  has  been  given  to  the  wom- 
en of  the  Church  through  Relief 

The  call  to  service  in  this  Society 
comes  not  to  one  or  two  or  the 
few,  nor  to  any  selected  group,  but 
to  all  women  of  the  Church.  Mem- 
bership in  Relief  Society  should 
not  be  regarded  as  a  matter  of 
choice,  but  rather  as  one  of  obliga- 
tion. Every  Latter-day  Saint  wom- 
an, according  to  her  circumstances 
and  talents,  has  a  responsibility  to- 
ward the  work  of  this  organization. 

Sometimes,  women  are  led  to  ex- 
cuse themselves  for  inactivity  in  the 
Society.  Sometimes  mothers  with 
young  children  postpone  the  day  of 
their  affiliation,  feeling  that  to 
affiliate  when  their  children  are 
small  would  work  a  hardship 
upon  them  and  perhaps  entail 
neglect  of  the  children.  Presi- 
dent Lorenzo  Snow,  addressing  the 
sisters  at  Saltair  July  9,  1901,  re- 
ferred to  this  attitude  saying,  "It 

might  be  thought  by  some  that  the 
labors  connected  with  membership 
in  the  Relief  Society  would  cause 
those  sisters  who  belong  to  it  to 
neglect  their  household  duties.  But 
this  is  not  so.  I  will  venture  to  say 
that  the  best  wives  and  mothers  and 
the  most  efficient  housekeepers 
among  us  are  members  of  Relief 

Through  the  years,  thousands  of 
women  who  have  commenced  ac- 
ticity  in  the  Society  when  their 
children  were  young  have  borne  sin- 
cere and  grateful  testimony  to  the 
fact  that  their  homes  and  their  chil- 
dren have  been  boundlessly  blessed 
and  benefited  through  their  Relief 
Society  membership. 

The  name  of  every  Latter-day 
Saint  woman  should  appear  on  the 
rolls  of  Relief  Society,  and  each 
should  lend  to  this  great  work  the 
best  support  of  which  she  is  capable. 

Out  of  this  effort  to  meet  her 
responsibility  to  this  God-inspired 
and  Priesthood-directed  organiza- 
tion, there  will  come  to  her  a 
spiritual  grace,  a  womanly  charm,  a 
poise,  an  uprightness  and  stability 
of  character,  a  development  of  her 
talents  and  abilities,  a  competence 
in  the  management  of  her  home, 
a  wisdom  in  guiding  and  directing 
her  children,  an  understanding 
heart,  a  testimony  of  the  truthful- 
ness of  the  restored  gospel  that  will 
be  a  deep  and  abiding  satisfaction 
to  her,  and  a  comforting  and  sus- 
taining influence  as  long  as  life 
shall  last.  As  we  have  shared  in  the 
labors  so  will  we  most  certainly  share 
in  the  triumph  of  the  work  and  in 
the  eternal  blessings  which  the  Lord 
will  give  to  his  faithful  daughters. 

-B.  S.  S. 

cJn    lllemoriam  —  lllartha   (Jones   iuaitard 

November  7,  1873— January  12,  1952 

Martha  Jones  Ballard,  seventy-eight  years  old,  passed  away  at  the 
family  home  in  Salt  Lake  City,  January  12,  1952.  She  was  the  wife  of 
Elder  Melvin  J.  Ballard,  a  member  of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve,  who  died 
in  1939.  Sister  Ballard,  a  gracious  and  lovely  woman,  was  the  devoted 
mother  of  four  sons  and  three  daughters,  a  true  homemaker,  and  a  gifted 
and  willing  helpmeet  for  her  husband.  For  twenty  years  she  served  as 
Relief  Society  president  in  the  Northwestern  States  Mission,  while  her 
husband  presided  over  that  mission.  Her  loving  service  among  the  sisters 
is  recalled  with  gratitude. 

^sr  V  V  V 

kA.11  (Tier  Vt/ays  o/lre  [Peace 

Katherine  F.  Larsen 

Always  they  have  such  gentle  hands,  the  ones 
Who  are  born  to  ease  the  world's  encumbering  load : 
Laving  tired,  dusty  feet  bruised  by  the  road, 
Cooling  brows  set  on  fire  by  relentless  suns; 
Gentle  their  voices,  soothing  to  troubled  hearts; 
Nourishing  food  with  competence  they  prepare; 
Growing  gay  flowers,  sewing  with  loving  care, 
Mending  torn  places,  healing  the  sick,  their  arts. 

From  Rachel  to  Ruth  who  gleaned  for  Naomi's  bread; 
From  Sarah  to  Esther  zealous  for  Israel's  weal; 
Tirelessly  they  minister  to  the  world's  demands; 
Always  the  poor  are  helped,  the  hungry  fed; 
Knowing  all  ways  to  bless,  to  soothe,  to  heal, 
Always  they  have  such  loving  gentle  hands. 


i/lfMouricirig  the  xsLprd  Special  Short  Story  <btssue 

The  April  1952  issue  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  will  be  the 
special  short  story  number,  with  three  outstanding  and  experienced 
authors  being  represented.    Look  for  these  stories  in  April: 

"Father  Was  a  Good  Provider"  by  Inez  Bagnell 

"The  Long  Day"  by  Maryhale  Woolsey 

"A  Frame  for  Happiness"  by  Ora  Pate  Stewart 

The  April  Magazine  will  also  contain  the  second  part  of  the  four- 
part  story  "Dear  Conquest"  by  Deone  Sutherland,  and  the  fourth  chapter 
of  Beatrice  R.  Parsons  serial  "Uncertain  Possession,"  as  well  as  several 
homemaking  articles  and  other  features  of  particular  interest  to  women. 

Page  178 



\yraanizations  and  LKeorganizations  of  Stake 
ana    lllission  [Relief  Societies 

Since  the  last  report,  printed  in  the  March  1951  issue  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine, 

to  and  including  December  1951. 


Columbia  River 

East  Lethbridge 

Mill  Creek 

Monument  Park 

Santa  Barbara 
Santa  Monica 
Santa  Rosa 


Formerly  Part  of  Appointed  President 

Date  of  Appoint- 

California  Mission, 
Northern   California 

Portland  Stake 
Northwestern   States 

Lethbridge  Stake 
Northern  California 
Cottonwood  Stake 

Bonneville  Stake 
Hillside  Stake 
Cottonwood  Stake 
California  Mission 
Inglewood  Stake 
Berkeley  Stake, 
Northern  California 

East  Mill  Creek  Stake 
Portland  Stake, 
Northwestern  States 

Arlene  P.  Sutton  May  27,  1951 

Mona  H.   Kirkham     December  10,  1951 

Fern  R.  Laycock 
Lyle  J.  Coombs 

Florence  N.  Single- 
Minnie  E.  Anderson 

Esther  K.  Gunnell 
Gladys  B.  Carmack 
Odette  P.  Coulam 
Vera  Maude  Sorensen 

Grace  E.  Berndt 
Erma  L.  Snowberger 

November  25,  1951 
May  13,  1951 

February  11,  1951 

June  24,  1951 

February  20,  1951 
March  18,  1951 
July  1,  1951 
January  7,  1951 

February  12,  1951 
December  3,  1951 



Released  President 

East  German 
Eastern  States 

Near  East 

Mary  H.  Stoddard 
LaPriel  R.  Eyre 
Marta  Ann  B.  Stover 
Betty  Brown 

Irene  P.  Clissold 
Berta  W.  Piranian 
Lillian  D.  Lillywhite 

Appointed  President     Date  oi  Appoint- 


LaPriel   S.   Bunker      October  6,  1951 
Anna  H.  Toone  September  21,  1951 

Lena  W.  Glaus  May  16,  1951 

Helen  Beth  Henrich-  October  25,   1951 

Stella  C.  Nelson  March  11,  1951 

(Mission  closed  January  10,  1951) 
(Died  December  22,  1951) 

Page  179 






New  England 
New  Zealand 

Southwest  Indian 

Western  Canadian 

Released  President        Appointed  President 

Gladys  P.  Young 
Virginia  D.  Young 
Francella  C.  Hale 
Lillian  D.  Flake 
Martha  Elnora  G. 

Corraine  S.  Williams 
Holly  W.  Fisher 

Hattie  B.  Maughan 
Alice  W.  Ottley 
Myrtle  L.  W.  Paul 
Thelma  S.  Buchanan 
Joane  W.  Coombs 

Afton  K.  Shreeve 
Elizabeth  H.  Zim- 

Date  of  Appoint- 

January  26,  1951 
September  27,  1951 
March  9,   1951 
April  13,  1951 
November  30,  1951 

June  22,  1951 
November  26,  1951 


Released  President 

Appointed  President     Date  of  Appoint- 
"~~~~  ment 

Big   Cottonwood  Grace  E.  Berndt 

(Name  changed  to  Cottonwood  Stake,  February  12,  1951) 

Boise  Maudell  Harris  Elnora  T.  Loveland     June  3,  1951 

Burley  Bertha  P.  Hill  Merna  E.  Marchant    May  6,  1951 

Carbon  Florence  L.  Pace  Maude  Warren  January  7,  1951 

Cottonwood  Florence  N.  Singleton  (Stake  dissolved  February   12,   1951) 

Cottonwood  (Formerly  Big  Cottonwood) 

East  Los  Angeles 

East  Mill  Creek 

East  Mill  Creek 

East  Rigby 




Idaho  Falls 






North  Davis 

North  Idaho  Falls 

North  Rexburg 



Palo  Alto 



St.  Joseph 

San  Francisco 

Oa  J.  Cannon  February  it,  1951 

Madeleine  P.  Stevens  July  9,  1951 
Genevieve  L.  Ander-  June  21,  1951 

Alice  W.  Ottley  March  11,  1951 

Zettella  W.  Thurman  November  11,  1951 
Virginia  K.  Campbell  July  11,  1951 
Vivian  R.  McConkie  January  28,  1951 
Elsie  B.  North  May  27,  1951 

Harriet  C.  Leishman    Mildred   O.   Norman  May  6,  1951 
Venna  H.  Croft  Mabel  J.  Hansen         July  15,  1951 

Grace  C.  Crandall 
Evalyn  B.  White 
Emma  B.  Solomon 
Alta  Fuhriman 
Sylvia  Johnson 
Oma  E.  Wilcox 
Ruby  F.  Olsen 

Adalena  M.  Withers  July  22,   1951 
Delia  W.  Swensen       April   1,  1951 
Chloe  M.   Howell       June  10,  1951 
Ethel  M.  Beckstrand  September  16, 1951 
Pearl   O.   Clement        July  15,  1951 
LaRue  O.  Nixon 
Lavona  Hoopes 

Oa  J.  Cannon 
Ruby  G.  Choate 

Erma  M.  Dixon 
Alice  W.  Ottley 
Lida  Call 
Alice  B.  Steinicke 
Ida  Dean 

Gladys  S.  Boyer 
Zelma  Miller 
Lucille  Earl 
Ethel  B.  Andrew 
Marietta  T.  Call 
Pearl  W.  Burton 
May  W.  Andrus 
Hattie  L.  Rigby 
Hilda   E.   Perkins 
Ida   E.  Evans 
Leila  A.  Gates 
Lucile  J.  Erickson 
Florence  P.  Nielson 
Hattie  S.  Shurtz 

June  24,  1951 
August    20,    1951 
June  3,  1951 
June  3,  1951 
September,  1,  1951 
September  9,  1951 
May  13,  1951 

DeLilah  M.  Fuellen-    Gladys  R.  Winter 

August  12,  1951 
December  9,   1951 
June  20,  1951 




Released  President 

Appointed  President    Date    of    Appoint- 

Southern  Arizona         Gladys  E.  Huish 

South  Ogden 
South  Salt  Lake 
South  Summit 
Sugar  House 

Twin  Falls 


Reka  V.  Parker 
Delia  D.  Walton 
Zella  B.  Johnston 
Vauna   S.   Jacobsen 
Lisadore  B.  Crooks- 
Carrol  Wells 
Kathryn  M.  Merrill 
Elese  B.  Lundberg 
Beatrice  G.  Brinker- 

Naomi  May  Chandler 

Hilda  M.  P.  Stutz- 

Erma  V.  Jacobs 
Veraey  J.  Olson 
Luella  W.  Walker 
Laura  R.  Millard 
Margaret  W.  Ririe 

Margaret  J.  Olpin 
Leah  Kirk 
Mae  A.  Evans 
LaVell  King 

Delia  W.  Alder 

May  27,  1951 

September  9,  1951 
September  9,  1951 
November  25, 1951 
October  14,  1951 
May  27,  1951 

January  21,  1951 
September  16,  1951 
September  16,  1951 
April  29,   1951 

January  7,  1951 


Nellie  B.  Brenchley 

Frail  he  stands,  with  shoulders  bent, 
Against  the  pulpit's  strength  he  leans, 
And  speaks  to  a  silent  throng,  intent 
Upon  his  word,  his  voice  serene. 

Eyes  glance  not  at  the  gnarled  fingers 

That  find  the  pulpit's  edge  and  rest, 

But  seek  his  benign  face  and  linger, 

While  he  imbues  their  minds  with  righteousness. 

But  yesterday  these  sinewy  hands 

Anvil  and  a  mighty  hammer  knew, 

The  irons  they  forged  as  countless  as  the  sands, 

A  blacksmith's  strength  from  these  crude  tools  he  drew. 

Hard  the  toil  along  the  path  he  trod, 
But  love  of  God  and  man  sustained  him  then, 
And  while  he  walked  uprightly  before  God, 
He  shaped  the  iron  of  character  in  men. 

And  strong  these  hands  do  yet  remain 
And  strong  his  faith — eternal  life  his  goal, 
The  hands  of  a  blacksmith  he  may  claim, 
But  his  is  a  Patriarch's  soul. 

Room  for  Phyllis 

Alice  Money  Bailey 

ELIZABETH  Webster  was  con-  and  let  us  have  it?    All  the  other 

scious  again  of  the  imperfec-  girls  have  rooms  of  their  own,  and 

tion  of  her  home  as  she  came  when  I  hear  them  tell  about  what 

up  the  walk.     Coming  back  to  it  they  do  in  them  and  how  they  look 

after    seeing    Pearl's    lovely    home  I  just  feel  like  crying.     I  wouldn't 

brought  a  sinking  sensation  of  de-  mind  sharing  it  with  Dona  if  we 

pression  and  she  was  glad  she  had  could  have  a  decent  one;  but  our 

insisted  on  Evelyn  letting  her  off  bed  jammed  up  against  the  fireplace 

at  the  corner  rather  than  driving  in  the  front  room,  and  all  those 

her  all  the  way.    Some  of  the  girls  bookcases,  make  it  look  like  it  isn't 

had  never  seen  her  home,  and  if  a  bedroom  at  all." 
she  had  her  way  they  never  would.         "The  boys  wouldn't  move,  you 

The  door  needed  paint  where  the  know  that,  Phyllis." 
dog,   Duffy,  had  scratched  to  get         Elizabeth  heard  Phyllis  sigh  as 

in;  a  part  of  the  porch  railing  had  she  proceeded  to  the  kitchen.  She 

come  loose  and  was  drooping.  The  had  had  no  idea  the  children  felt 

house  itself  was  an   old-fashioned  the  same  as  she  did  about  their 

firebrick  bungalow,  with  a  gray  ce-  home,  and  a  sick  feeling  came  in 

ment  porch  and  walk  and  not  a  the  pit  of  her  stomach,  but  what 

hopeful  line  in  it,  so  far  as  Eliza-  could  be  done?      The  inside  was 

beth  could  see.    You  couldn't  take  as   hopeless   as   the   outside,   with 

off  the  porch  and  modernize  the  square  rooms,  whose  arrangement 

entrance  without  wrecking  the  roof,  was    necessarily    Standardized    and 

There  was  just  no  use.  prosaic. 

The  girls  were  home  from  school,  While  Elizabeth  peeled  the  din- 
getting  lessons  at  the  dining  table,  ner  vegetables,  her  mind  followed  a 
and  Elizabeth  stopped  to  look  at  familiar  pattern  to  its  inevitable  and 
their  work,  patting  Dona's  ten-year-  well-worn  conclusion.  If  you  could 
old  blonde  head  and  smiling  into  remove  the  hideous  sliding  doors 
her  bright  blue  eyes.  Phyllis  was  from  between  the  dining  and  living 
going  on  fourteen,  wavering  on  the  rooms  and  have  a  living  room 
edge  of  womanhood,  and  just  now  across  the  front  of  the  house— but 
her  dark  head  was  bent  over  a  dia-  where  would  the  girls  sleep?  For 
gram  which  she  was  tracing  with  the  fact  remained  that  it  was  a  two- 
painful  care.  Elizabeth  leaned  over  bedroom  house,  she  and  Dave 
her  shoulder.  occupying  one,  while  the  boys  had 

"What  are  you  drawing,  darling?"  the  other,  and  the  family  was  defi- 

she  asked.  nitely  three-bedroom.    If  they  could 

"Oh,  this  is  a  plan  for  my  room—  build  a  bedroom  for  the  boys  in 

if  I  had  a  room.    Our  class  in  home-  the  basement— if,  if  ...  . 
making  is  studying  how  to  decorate         And   then   what   could   you   do 

our  rooms,  and,  Mother,  couldn't  without  money?    It  was  just  as  well 

the  boys  move  out  of  their  room  to  face  the  fact  that  Dave's  earn- 

Page  182 



ings  would  never  be  more,  perhaps 
might  even  be  less.  The  doctor  had 
hinted  that  Dave  ought  to  slow 
down  a  bit,  after  his  operation,  but 
Dave  hadn't,  and  he  flatly  refused 
to  let  her  work.  They  were  behind 
on  their  bills  from  Dave's  opera- 
tion as  it  was. 

pLIZABETH  had  become  so  dis- 
couraged about  the  house  that 
she  hadn't  kept  things  up  as  she 
used  to  do.  It  hadn't  seemed 
worthwhile  to  shampoo  the  rugs  in 
the  front  room  and  dining  room, 
since  they  were  threadbare  in  spots. 
None  of  the  floor  coverings  were 
very  good,  for  that  matter.  The 
kitchen  and  bathroom  linoleums 
were  worn  so  that  the  red  under- 
ground showed  through,  and  the 
bedroom  rugs  were  hopeless.  The 
wallpaper  in  every  room  was  faded 
or  had  yellowed  to  resemble  wrap- 
ping paper,  and  it  had  seemed  no 
use  to  launder  the  curtains  at  the 
end  of  summer. 

Elizabeth,  busy  with  these  dark 
thoughts,  forgot  to  smile  when  her 
menfolks  trooped  in,  Dave  from 
work,  Bill  from  his  after-school 
work  at  the  grocery  store,  and 
Clark  from  wherever  he  had  been 
since  school  let  out.  He  was  seven- 
teen, in  his  last  year  in  high  school, 
and  he  delivered  papers  in  the 
morning.  Bill  was  twenty-one  and 
in  his  last  year  at  the  university. 

"How  did  your  party  go?"  Dave 
asked  conversationally  at  dinner. 

"Fine.  Pearl  gave  a  lovely  lunch- 
eon—creamed lobster  —  and  her 
house  is  just  beautiful— wall-to-wall 
carpeting  and  large  picture  win- 
dows—exactly the  kind  of  house 
I've  always  wanted." 

Light  went  out  of  Dave's  eyes 

and  he  bent  his  head  to  his  eating. 
I  didn't  need  to  say  that,  Elizabeth 
chided  herself.  The  house  was  an 
old  sore  spot  with  her,  and  she  was 
always  saying  something  that  must 
hurt  Dave. 

"Pearl's  son  is  getting  married," 
she  offered  lamely. 

"Some  people  can,"  said  Bill  bit- 

"Now  what  do  you  mean  by  that 
remark?"  Dave  challenged. 

"Nothing,"  said  Bill.  "Just  skip 

"Are  you  and  Anne  having 
trouble?"   Elizabeth  asked. 

"No  new  trouble.  Same  old 
thing.  She  wonders  why  I  don't 
invite  her  to  the  house,  to  get  better 
acquainted  with  the  family.  Says 
I'm  evasive  about  it." 

"Well,  why  don't  you,  Son?" 
asked  Dave,  looking  up. 

"Invite  Anne  to  this  dump?"  Bill 
demanded  hotly.  "That  would 
really  fix  things  between  us.  You 
should  see  their  home,  a  ranch 
rambler,  modern  to  the  last  degree." 

Elizabeth  was  indignant.  The 
very  idea!  Bill,  ashamed  of  his 
home!  Before  she  could  open  her 
mouth  to  say  so,  however,  she  re- 
membered her  own  feelings  as  she 
came  up  the  walk  not  two  hours 
ago.  What  was  that  but  shame?  A 
white  line  appeared  around  Dave's 
mouth,  but  he  blew  out  his  breath 
without  exploding. 

"I  see,"  he  said  testily.  "Well, 
you  could  tell  her  this:  Our  home 
is  paid  for." 

T^HERE  was  a  sudden  quiet 
around  the  table  as  Dave 
pulled  the  deeds  from  his  pocket 
and  laid  them  in  the  center  of  the 



"Every  bit?"  ventured  Dona. 
"And  we  don't  owe  a  thing?" 

"Every  penny,"  confirmed  Dave. 
"I  made  the  last  payment  on  it  to- 

"Oh,  Dave!"  said  Elizabeth.  It 
seemed  incredible  after  so  many 
years  of  making  the  payments, 
small  though  they  were. 

"Golly,  Dad!"  crowed  Clark. 
Til  bet  that's  better  than  you 
could  say  about  ninety  per  cent  of 
these  high-class  joints." 

It  was  a  high  moment,  and  Eliza- 
beth saw  pride  leap  to  the  eyes  of 
the  children— even  Bill's,  although 
his  next  comment  dampened  it. 

"Such  as  it  is,"  he  said  rashly, 
and  Dave  winced. 

"Yes,  such  as  it  is,"  he  said,  but 
didn't  reprimand  Bill,  though  Eliza- 
beth thought  Bill  needed  it. 

"Dave,  I  think  it  is  wonderful— 
the  house  being  paid  for,"  Elizabeth 
said  when  they  were  alone. 

"Do  you,  dear?"  asked  Dave, 
pleased.  "It  would  not  have  seemed 
such  a  long  pull  to  most  people,  I 
guess,  but  we've  had  so  many  set- 

"I  do  wish  it  was  nicer,"  Eliza- 
beth went  on.  "I  feel  like  not  hav- 
ing a  nice  home  is  ruining  the  chil- 
dren's lives." 

The  pleasure  had  gone  out  of 
Dave's  face  again,  and  Elizabeth 
could  have  bitten  her  tongue. 

"That's  not  what's  ruining  their 
lives,"  he  said  sharply.  "It's  not 
having  the  good  pride  of  home." 

"Well,  really,  Dave  .  .  ."  began 
Elizabeth  reasonably. 

"We  lived  in  an  adobe  house 
when  I  was  a  youngster,  and  none 
of  us  was  ashamed  *to  bring  our 
friends  home." 

"Well,  our  house  wasn't  so 
much,"  Elizabeth  admitted.  "No 
central  heating,  and  no  plumbing— 
but  everybody  loved  to  come  there. 
Still " 

"Pride  in  their  home  is  some- 
thing children  have  to  have,"  said 
Dave  stubbornly. 

"I  certainly  agree  with  that, 
Dave,  but  .  .  .  ." 

"Elizabeth,  I  can't  do  anything 
about  the  house.  I  used  to  have 
dreams  of  what  I  could  do.  I  was 
younger  and  stronger  then.  If  I 
could  take  an  extra  job— but  I 
can't.  I'm  worn  out  every  night 
when  I  come  home,  keeping  my 
end  of  the  work  up  on  the  job. 
I've  come  at  last  to  know  that  I'm 
not  gifted  at  making  money  the 
way  some  men  are.  I'm  just  an  old 
working  stiff— a  day  laborer.  Some- 
times I  think  my  insurance  would 
do  you  more  good  than  I  do." 

"Dave!"  cried  Elizabeth,  thor- 
oughly alarmed.  "Dave,  don't  say 
such  a  thing." 

ELIZABETH  lay  awake  long  that 
night  in  an  agony  of  worry,  and 
the  dark  fears  for  the  happiness  of 
her  family  seemed  a  yawning  abyss, 
waiting  to  draw  them  in.  It  was 
as  if  there  was  a  blight  among  them, 
breathing  foulness  on  them  all. 
Only  Dona  and  Clark  seemed  un- 
touched by  it— but  were  they?  Why 
was  Clark  gone  from  home  so 
much?  His  friend,  Snorky,  he  said, 
had  simply  a  dilly  place  to  study. 
And  why  had  Dona  been  so  glad 
about  the  house  if  she  had  felt  en- 
tirely secure?  Her  heart  yearned 
over  little  Phyllis,  wanting  her  own 
room  so  much  that  she  felt  like 
crying,  and  it  ached  for  Bill,  so  un- 



happy  from  his  love  affair— but  it 
trembled  with  fear,  thinking  of 
Dave  actually  wanting  to  die. 

Her  mind  darted  frantically  about 
like  a  caged  animal,  trying  to  find 
some  way  out,  some  possibility  of 
happiness  for  the  family.  Only  one 
bright  moment  kept  recurring,  the 
quick  pride  in  the  faces  of  the  chil- 
dren—and in  her  own  heart— when 
Dave  had  said  the  house  was  paid 
for,  when  he  had  laid  the  deeds  on 
the  table.  Poor  Dave!  This  should 
have  been  a  big  day— a  day  filled 
with  such  bright  moments,  such 
pride,  in  celebration  of  the  event. 

"A  child  has  to  have  the  good 
pride  of  home,"  he  had  said.  They 
had  all  had  it  for  a  moment,  after 
Dave's  words.  Perhaps  that' was  it, 
she  thought  grudgingly.  Perhaps 
you  could  build  pride  with  such 
words— or  tear  it  down.  Or  tear 
it  down!  The  admission  was  like 
the  dreaded  opening  of  the  hall 
closet,  and  her  guilty  thoughts 
poured  out  like  the  inevitable  ava- 
lanche that  followed.  Suddenly, 
sharply,  and  too  clearly  she  could 
remember  years  of  little  scenes  like 
tonight,  with  Dave  wilting  under 
the  silken  bludgeoning  of  her  words 
—and  the  children  listening,  being 
indoctrinated  against  their  home  by 
her  complaints.  Not  Dave's,  nev- 
er Dave's.  The  carping,  nagging 
refrain  had  been  her  own  as  far  back 
as  she  could  remember,  seeping  in- 
to her  family  like  slow  poison.  She 
cried  out  with  the  pain  of  the  un- 
bearable picture,  and  Dave— good, 
patient  Dave— reached  for  her  in 
his  sleep. 

"We  should  be  thankful  for  our 
home,"  she  said  brightly  the  next 
morning  at  breakfast.  "They  don't 

build  houses  like  this  any  more- 
solid  hardwood  floors,  thick  walls, 
and  plate-glass  windows." 

"If  you're  trying  to  sell  it,"  said 
Bill  shortly,  "I'm  not  buying." 

"Bill,"  said  Dave  sharply,  "apolo- 
gize to  your  mother." 

TT  was  going  to  take  more  than 

words  now,  Elizabeth  thought 
dismally.  Maybe  it  was  too  late,  for 
Bill,  anyway. 

"Phyllis,"  she  said  after  he  had 
gone,  "do  you  think  you  and 
Dona  would  like  our  room?  Daddy 
and  I  could  sleep  in  the  front 

"I  wouldn't  take  your  room, 

"I  wouldn't  mind  sleeping  in  the 
front  room,  and  I'm  sure  your  dad- 
dy wouldn't." 

"Well,  Mother,"  Phyllis  con- 
fessed slowly,  "I  don't  want  to  hurt 
your  feelings,  but  what  could  we 
do  with  all  that  stuff  in  your  room? 
It  wouldn't  be  our  room  with  books 
and  sewing  and  clothes  belonging 
to  someone  else,  and  all  those  boxes 
of  things  you've  saved." 

Nevertheless  she  came  home  that 
night  bubbling  with  enthusiasm. 
"Marcia  says  her  mother  knows  a 
real  reasonable  paper  hanger,  and 
he  would  do  your  bedroom  for  fifty 
dollars.  I  could  .  .  ."  she  faltered, 
looking  at  her  mother's  face.  "Fif- 
ty dollars  is  real  reasonable,  isn't 
it,  Mother?" 

"Fifty  dollars!"  said  Elizabeth. 
"Why,  when  I  was  a  girl  we  papered 
our  own— for  the  price  of  the  paper 
and  we  used  flour  paste." 

"Could  we,  Mother?  I  could 
help— and  let  me  pick  out  the  wall- 
paper and  paint.     I  know  exactly 


what  I  want.  Oh,  no,  Mother!"  she  a  deep  sense  of  satisfaction  when 

broke  off  as  Elizabeth  went  to  the  the  family  inspected  the  results, 
cupboard    for    the    cracked    sugar 

bowl.    'That's  the  money  you  have  fXF  course  Phyllis  and  Dona  were 

been  saving  for  your  new  dress."  ecstatic  and  proudly  possessive, 

The  following  week  was  a  night-  but  Clark  was  green  with  envy, 

mare    of    sorting,    lugging,    lifting,  "Why    do    the   girls    get   every- 

and  trying  to  find  places  for  the  thing?"  he  yelped.    "Why  can't  our 

things  that  had  accumulated  in  the  room  be  fixed  up,  too?" 

bedroom,    of    the   exasperation    of  "Money,  Son,"  said  Dave  laconi- 

trying   to   hang   paper,   and   Eliza-  cally. 

beth  despaired  half  a  dozen  times  "I  could  put  off  buying  my  ja- 

and  wept  from  sheer  fatigue,  but  lopy  and   spend   the  money  from 

went  on  grimly.    Dave  came  silent-  my  route  on  paper  and  paint  and 

ly    to    her    aid    when    the    ceiling  stuff.     Of  course,  I  wouldn't  want 

proved  too  much  for  her,  calmed  it  like  this.    This  is  pretty,  but  it's 

her  jagged  nerves  when  her  temper  girl  stuff.     I  want  mine  real  nifty 

was  short,  and  carefully  sanded  and  and  classy,  with  built-in  bookcases 

painted   the  woodwork  and   furni-  like  we  learned  in  shop,  and  my 

ture.  model  ship." 

She   salvaged   some   ruffled   cur-  "Count      me      out,      Skipper," 

tains  and  two  white  crinkle  bed-  growled   Bill.     "I'm   too   busy   to 

spreads    long    discarded,    mended,  help,  and  I've  another  use  for  my 

dyed  them  yellow,  and  ironed  them,  money,  but  you  go  ahead  so  long 

She  used  one  spread  to  put  a  floor-  as  you  don't  bother  my  things  too 

length   flounce  on   the   other   and  much.     Anyhow,   it  won't  be  my 

hung  the  curtains  to  a  soft  drape,  room  very. long.    I'll  be  moving  as 

Phyllis  helped  her  shampoo  the  liv-  soon  as  I  get  my  degree  and  a  job, 

ing  room  rug  to  its  blue-green  color,  if  Anne'll  see  it  my  way." 

bringing  out  the  small  yellow  and  "Clark,  that  sounds  wonderful," 

tangerine    flowers.    Its    worn    spot  Elizabeth    enthused,    groaning    in- 

was  well  hidden  under  the  bed,  and  wardly  at  the  thought  of  the  work, 

the  tangerine  was  picked  up  in  the  I  can't  do  it,  she  thought.     I  just 

flounce  for  the  dressing  table  and  can't.     But  she  said:   "Give  me  a 

lamp  shades  which  she  and  Phyllis  week  to  catch  up  on  washing  and 

had   transformed   from   a  bouffant  ironing  and  cooking." 

and  outmoded  taffeta  evening  dress  "A    week!"    howled    Clark.      "I 

from  her  younger  days.  wanted  to  start  tomorrow,  but  I'll 

She  had  looked  with  dismay  at  wait." 

the  paper  Phyllis  bought,  but  was  At   first    Dave   grumbled   about 

amazed  to  see  how  the  turquoise  being  pushed  out  of  the  bedroom 

background,    the    subdued    yellow  in  favor  of  the  girls, 

roses  and  green  leaves  brought  the  "At  least,  it's  more  private,"  he 

room  to  life  and  color.  In  spite  of  finally  conceded.     "And  nice  hav- 

her  hands,  tender  from  scrubbing,  ing  my  books  in  the  bookcase.    If 

and  the  ache  in  her  back,  there  was  we  had  one  of  those  studio  couches 



we  could  fold  away,  this  room 
would  be  pleasant,  with  that  fire- 

"If  we  had  that  instead  of  our 
bedroom  set  we  could  take  out 
those  sliding  doors  and  make  a 
long  living  room  out  of  these  two 
rooms.    I've  always  wanted  .  .  .  ." 

"So  we  could,"  said  Dave,  going 
over  to  inspect  them.  "And  it 
wouldn't  be  so  much  trouble— or 
expense.  A  little  lath  and  plaster, 
a  few  boards  of  flooring,  and  I 
could  do  the  work  myself." 

So,  from  that  beginning,  by  de- 
grees and  logical  sequence,  beauty 
spread  throughout  the  house,  with 
little  money  spent— a  sacrificed 
movie  here,  diverted  funds  there— 
but  much  work.  A  swap  advertise- 
ment brought  the  studio  couch, 
and  Dave  excitedly  discovered  that 
the  gate-leg  table  in  the  basement 
which  Elizabeth  had  been  using  to 
stack  things  on  was  solid  walnut. 
He  glued,  sanded  and  mended  it 
with  great  care.  Opened,  it  would 
seat  eight  people,  so  the  heavy  oak 
dining  set  went  for  paper  and  paint 
and  varnish,  and  for  odds  and  ends 
of  furniture  from  secondhand 
stores.  The  eight  coats  of  varnish, 
with  alternate  rubbings,  polished 
the  table  to  a  dark  mirror,  and  was  a 
family  project,  with  everybody  ex- 
cited, except  Bill,  who  came  and 
went,  stubbornly  disinterested. 

TT  was  rather  painful  to  let  Clark 
hammer  away  at  his  room,  but 
Dave  wouldn't  let  Elizabeth  inter- 
fere. "Better  than  a  year  at  school, 
for  the  boy.  Any  damage  he  does 
can  be  repaired  later  on." 

"I  have  to  have  the  dining  room 
rug,"  Clark  said  one  day.    "That 

brown  goes  just  right  with  the 
brown  and  yellow  in  my  room." 

"Clark,  you  can't!"  Elizabeth  pro- 
tested. "We  have  only  one  rug  in 
there  now  and  we  need  two." 

"Yah,  and  it  looks  like  a  postage 
stamp,  now  that  the  room's  so  big. 
Why  don't  you  sand  the  Boor  and 
finish  it?  Snorky's  folks  have  their 
living  room  like  that  and  it's  classy." 

The  varnish  left  over  from  the 
table  was  just  enough  to  cover 
Duffy's  scratches  on  the  front  door, 
and  that,  in  turn,  called  for  mend- 
ing the  porch  rails.  Everybody  came 
to  look,  and  there  were  high  plans 
for  the  yard  when  spring  would 
come,  awnings,  lawn  furniture,  and 
shrubs— outrunning  the  budget,  of 
course.  Everyone  had  ideas  and  all 
were  alert  for  more.  Brightness 
moved  off  magazine  pages  into  the 
house,  in  colorful  painting  of  the 
kitchen  and  bathroom  floors,  in  red, 
yellow,  and  blue  touches  for  the 
kitchen,  and  handy  shelves  for  the 

Even  the  neighbors  were  curious 
and  interested.  "Land!  I  thought 
you  were  moving  out  when  I  saw 
all  that  stuff  stacked  on  the  porch 
to  be  hauled  off.  It  sure  is  a  marvel 
how  things  do  collect,"  or,  "I've 
brought  you  over  that  carved  chair 
from  my  attic.  Dave's  so  handy  at 
fixin'  things,  and  you  with  your 
fancywork.  A  little  needle-point 
....  No,  I'll  never  use  it.  My  eye- 
sight's too  poor,  and  no  way  to  fix 
it  myself.  Besides,  when  I  was  sick 
you.  .  .  ." 

Better  than  all  the  improvements 
in  the  house,  the  sparkling  glass  and 
the  filmy  curtains,  and  the  clutter 
of  the  hall  closet  restored  to  order, 
was  the  growing  happiness  of  the 



family.  No  one  said  in  so  many 
words:  "I'm  proud  of  our  home  .... 
I  love  my  home."  But  it  was  there 
in  abundant  evidence— a  lingering 
glance  of  appreciation  for  the  bright 
floors,  a  finger  gently  touching  the 
polished  surface  of  the  table.  It 
went  with  the  children  to  school, 
blossomed  out  in  improved  marks 
for  their  studies,  and  came  home 
with  them  in  troops  of  their  friends, 
study  groups,  ice-box  raids  and  slum- 
ber parties. 

piNALLY  Elizabeth  invited  her 
friends  for  luncheon  and  felt 
no  twinge  of  shame  for  her  home, 
although  it  was  still  humble  com- 
pared to  many  of  theirs.  Dave  be- 
gan to  talk  about  building  a  bed- 
room and  rumpus  room  in  the  base- 
ment, and  everybody  was  happy,  ex- 
cept Bill. 

Elizabeth's  heart  held  a  dull  sor- 
sow  that  she  had  let  one  of  her 
children  go  beyond  help.  She  had 
given  up  hope  of  being  able  to 
reach  Bill,  when,  one  morning,  she 
noticed  him  going  through  the 
house  opening  closet  doors,  looking 
at  walls  and  ceilings,  at  furniture 
and  floors,  as  if  he  had  never  seen 
them  before.  Perhaps  he  hadn't 
really,  for  he  had  been  cramming  for 
term  exams,  putting  in  his  usual 
hours  after  school  and  on  Satur- 
days at  the  store  where  he  was 
cashier,  and  trying  to  keep  up  on 
his  dates  with  Anne. 

"Have  you  lost  something,  Bill?" 
she  asked,  following  him.  "Can  I 
help  you?" 

He  was  standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  living  room  floor,  looking 
critically  around.  His  eyes  took  in 
everything,  the  very  pale  rose  and 
moss  green  of  the  wallpaper,  the 
gold  of  the  gumwood  bookcases  and 
fireplace,  the  freshness  of  draperies 
and    slipcovers. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  finally  pro- 
nounced grudgingly.  "The  floor's 
keen,  but  it  looks  rather  bare." 

"I  know,  Bill,  but  carpeting 
would  cost.  .  .  ." 

"You  don't  want  to  cover  up  a 
floor  like  this  with  carpeting.  A 
shag  rug  or  two— big  ones.  .  .  ." 

"Yes,  but  even  shag  rugs.  .  .  ." 

"Cost  money.  I  know.  I've  been 
thinking.  I've  got  some  money 
saved  up— about  thirty  dollars.  I'll 
buy  a  rug  or  two— white  ones  would 
be  nifty— for  before  the  fireplace 
and  in  front  of  that  couch.  I  was 
going  to  blow  Anne  to  a  really 
big  time,  orchids,  dinner,  dancing, 
to  see  if  I  could  square  things  with 
her,  but  if  I  could  bring  her  home 
to  dinner,  to  meet  the  family,  and 
to  show  her  we're  not  such  a  bunch 
of  scrubs— I  think  it  would  clear  up 
a  few  misconceptions  between  us." 

Elizabeth  tried  to  keep  casual,  but 
emotion  trembled  against  her  eyes 
and  on  her  lips. 

"Oh,  Bill!  Bill,  dear,"  she  said, 
"of  course." 


Matia  McClelland  Buik 


Open  your  petals 

That  out  of  your  scarlet  throat 

The  glorious  song  of  desert  spring 

May  pour. 

Josef  Muench 




Gene  Romolo 

Only  the  immobile  lips  of  clay  keep 
Ever  silent.    With  more  potent  hearing, 
We  might  hark  to  the  greening  grass  repeat 
Strange,  blithesome  sound  and  silent  appearing 
Night  throb  with  palpitating  light  of  stars; 
Discern  rare  beauty  hidden  in  a  word, 
Hear  the  dolorous  murmuring  of  scars 
Left  on  a  heart,  and  from  a  single  bird 
Learn  of  magic  in  a  fluttering  wing, 
Capture  echoing  strains  from  a  lost  lyre, 
Catch  soft  music  that  the  windflowers  sing, 
Hear  rhythm  pulsing  in  a  soul's  white  fire 
And  listen  to  dawn's  voice  dispelling  night 
Before  it  covers  earth  with  gold-spun  light. 

Page   189 

Qjlne  Csrowntrig  c/ouch 

Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard 

"\A7HERE  did  you  get  that  hat?  It's  the  crowning  touch.  Perfect  with 
that  green  suit!  I've  looked  everywhere  and  .  .  ."  That's  what 
they  say. 

Where  did  I  get  it?  I  made  it.  Why  don't  you  try  one?  A  variety 
of  fabrics  as  delectable  as  a  cherry  on  a  lime  frappe  is  available;  and  the 
time  the  job  takes  is  so  little  that  it  is  negligible. 

This  year  I  made  tarns.  They  can  be  made  of  many  kinds  of  fabrics 
and  can  be  draped  to  becomingness  for  almost  any  set  of  features.  I  made 
mine  of  rayon,  non-crushable  velvet  in  a  lovely  old-gold  tone.  Maybe  you 
would  prefer  pique  or  grosgrain  silk  for  spring.  I  have  had  mine  two 
weeks,  and  so  far  I  have  repeated  it  in  eight  different  colors  for  friends, 
besides  lending  my  pattern  to  others. 

Here  is  my  pattern  (the  size  may  be  varied  to  suit  individual  pref- 
erence) : 


For  the  outside:  %  yard  of  velvet,  silk,  or  pique,  or  other  material  39  inches  wide. 
For  the  lining:   %  yard  drapery  taffeta  for  lining  velvet  material;  muslin,  for  lining 
pique;  dress  taffeta,  for  lining  silk;  matching  sewing  thread. 


Cut  two  circles,  twelve  and  one-half  inches  in  diameter,  from  velvet  or  other  ma- 
terial for  the  outside. 

Cut  two  circles  twelve  and  one-half  inches  in  diameter  from  lining  material. 

Cut  a  head  hole  seven  inches  in  diameter  from  one  of  the  twelve  and  one-half  inch 
circles  of  velvet,  and  in  one  twelve  and  one-half  inch  circle  of  lining.  Make  the  head 
hole  off  center  so  that  it  is  about  one  and  three-fourths  inches  from  the  edge  at  the 
narrowest  point. 

Baste  top  circles,  one  of  lining  and  one  of  velvet  or  other  outside  material,  together, 
right-side-out,  seam  exposed.     Baste  all  four  circles  together,  placing  velvet  circle,  with 

Page  190 



cut-out  head  hole  on  top,  velvet  pile  to  pile,  placing  lining,  with  cut-out  head  hole,  on 
bottom  right-side  of  lining  to  right-side  of  lining.  Run  seam  on  sewing  machine.  Trim 
seams,  but  do  not  clip.    The  undipped  seam  helps  to  stiffen  the  tam. 

Turn  right-side-out  and  join  all  four  circles  together  by  basting  around  the  head 

Cut  a  bias  strip  of  the  outside  material  two  inches  wide  and  long  enough  to  make 
a  ring  that  exactly  fits  the  head.    Join  into  a  ring. 

Baste  bias  ring  to  head  hole,  velvet  pile  to  pile,  easing  fullness  of  the  circles  to  fit 
the  bias  ring.  Run  up  seam  on  the  sewing  machine  and  trim.  Turn  under  bias  and 
finish  band  by  blind  stitching. 

Lay  the  tam  on  the  table  with  the  hole  side  up.  Pin  left  side  just  short  of  center 
to  the  top  lining,  using  a  long  costume  pin  with  a  safety  catch.  Full  the  velvet  and  its 
lining  generously,  but  keep  the  top  lining  taut.  Wear  the  tam  with  the  narrowest 
point  just  behind  the  right  ear  and  drape  to  suit  the  wearer. 

If  the  wearer  parts  her  hair  on  the  left  side,  the  pinning  may  be  reversed. 

Gld  (Road 

Vesta  N.  Lukei 

A  mountain  road,  abandoned  long  ago 

To  summer  growth  of  fern  and  winter  snow, 

To  falling  needles  of  the  pine  and  fir, 

Becomes  in  loneliness  the  lovelier. 

The  road  belongs  at  last  to  all  wild  things — 

To  butterflies  and  birds  with  sun-bright  wings, 

To  squirrels,  silver-gray,  with  rhythmic  tails, 

And  lizards  making  sudden  dusty  trails, 

To  tattered  chipmunks,  little  mice,  and  fleet, 

Shy  deer  who  disappear  on  nimble  feet. 

Alone  I  walk  in  quietude,  bestir 

No  leaves,  but  still  I  am  a  trespasser. 

A/alley  utarbor 

Josephine  J.  Harvey 

Up  from  the  valley, 

Beyond   the  circling  hills, 

I  went  in  search  of  you. 

I  wandered  unfamiliar  paths, 

Finding  only  alien  hearts, 

And    no    rest    harbor    for    my    soul. 

Although  I  have  returned, 

My  restless  heart  keeps  seeking 

The  joy  I  knew  when  you  were  here. 

Vi/ords  for  Spring 

Grace  Sayre 

When  winter  hills  are  bound  in  ice 
And  butterflies  are  only  dreams, 
The  magic  words  of  sun  and  spring 
Will  start  the  flow  of  streams. 
Marsh-marigolds  will  light  the  paths 
That  long  have  lain  in  dark, 
While  on  the  fields,  a  silver  song, 
Announces — meadow  lark! 

Uncertain  Possession 

Beatrice  R.  Parsons 
Chapter  3 

Synopsis:  Lorna  Ash  ton,  an  orphan, 
marries  Dr.  Matthew  Wire  and  goes  with 
him  to  his  hometown,  Westfield,  Ne- 
vada, to  take  over  the  practice  of  his  sick 
uncle,  a  doctor.  Lorna  is  afraid  that 
Matthew's  relatives  and  friends,  and  even 
his  patients,  will  mean  so  much  to  him 
that  he  will  never  belong  wholly  to  her. 
She  likes  Matthew's  Uncle  John,  and  she 
admires  Nurse  Hallie,  but  it  is  Carole,  a 
little  neighbor  girl,  who  brings  comfort  to 
Lorna  in  her  loneliness.  Two  small  china 
kittens,  which  Lorna  has  treasured  from 
childhood,  become  to  her  a  symbol  of 
possession,  but  her  husband  tells  her  that 
nothing  worth  having  is  worth  possessing. 

A  FEW  nights  later,  Lorna 
came  slowly  out  of  a  dream 
—a  dream  in  which  a  bell 
kept  jangling  while  Matt,  who  had 
been  close  to  her  side,  seemed  to 
drift  further  and  further  into  dis- 

Lorna  called  out  chokingly: 
"Matt,  Matt,  don't  go!  Don't 
leave  me!" 

She  felt  hot  tears  on  her  lashes, 
felt  that  she  was  losing  him,  then 
she  heard  his  voice,  calm,  reassur- 
ing, in  the  darkness.  "It's  the  tele- 
phone,  darling.     I'll   turn   on   the 


The  light  sprang  up  and  Lorna 
was  fully  awake,  yet  still  shaken  by 
her  experience.  She  smiled  rue- 

"I  wonder  if  I'll  ever  get  used  to 
calls  in  the  middle  of  the  night." 

Matt  smiled.  "Of  course  you 
will."  He  answered  the  phone, 
talked  for  a  moment,  then  put  down 
the  receiver,  his  face  quietly  grave. 
Page  192 

"The  Honson  twins  have  made  up 
their  minds  to  arrive." 

He  dressed  swiftly.  Lorna's  eyes 
were  wide  and  disturbed  as  she 
watched  him. 

"But  Matt,  it's  only  a  quarter 
to  four!" 

He  knotted  his  blue  tie.  "The 
twins  don't  care  what  time  it  is." 
His  eyes  were  smiling. 

"Let  me  help,"  cried  Lorna,  slip- 
ping into  her  long,  white  robe.  Her 
lovely  hair  made  a  soft,  red-gold 
mist  across  her  shoulders. 

Matt  nodded  towards  the  phone. 
"You  can  call  Hallie " 

Going  towards  the  telephone, 
Lorna  wondered  wistfully:  "Why 
didn't  I  take  nurse's  training,  Matt, 
instead  of  typing?  Then  I  could 
be  at  your  side,  instead  of  Hallie." 

Seeing  his  face,  her  cheeks  grew 
warm,  and  she  dialed  Hallie's  num- 
ber quickly.  When  Hallie  an- 
swered, Matt  took  the  receiver  and 
spoke  into  it. 

"I'll  have  the  car  out  in  a  few 
minutes  .  .  .  ." 

Lorna,  feeling  a  hot  little  rebel- 
lion at  being  left  out,  said  sharply: 
"Matt,  surely  there  is  something  I 
can  do."  And  then,  as  he  began  to 
shake  his  head,  a  little  sharply: 
"Matt,  I  want  to  come.  I  hate  be- 
ing left  behind.  I  want  to 
share  .  .  .  ." 

His  face  was  angered,  yet  he 
spoke  softly:  "Get  dressed.  There 
is  something  you  can  do."  He 
seemed,  in  his  anger,  to  be  testing 
her,  yet  his  tone  continued  quiet: 


"There  are  four  other  little  Hon-  Lorna's    wrap,    and    wrinkled    her 

sons,  Cliff,  Jean,  Harry,  and  Nelda.  brows,  asking  confusedly:  "Are  you 

They  range  from  three  to  seven,  coming  with  us?" 

The  Honson's  home  is  small.     A  Lorna   flushed   under   her   tone, 

farmhouse.     It's     rather     difficult  She  explained  swiftly:  "Matt  asked 

having  the  children  within  hearing,  me  to  baby  sit  .  .  .  ."    Her  voice 

You  can  sit  with  them  in  the  barn  trailed  away,  knowing  that  Hallie 

and  tell  stories."  was  still  doubtful.  *TU  admit  I  don't 

know  quite  what  I'm  to  do." 
T  ORNA,  who  had  been  scrambling  Capable,  efficient  Hallie  turned 
into  her  clothing,  stopped  back  the  corner  of  her  dark  cape 
brushing  her  hair.  Her  face  was  a  and  spoke  quietly:  "You'll  make 
mask  of  uncertainty.  "But  .  .  .  out,  Mrs.  Wire." 
but,"  she  stammered,  "I'm  not  used  Lorna  winced.  Hallie  suspect- 
to  telling  children's  stories.  I  can't  ed  the  truth— that  she  wanted  to  be 
think  of  any.  And  .  .  ."  she  swal-  with  Matt.  She  crept  silently  into 
lowed  nervously,  "I'd  be  frightened  the  rear  seat  and  felt  as  though  she 
of  the  cows  .  .  .  ."  She  stood  there  didn't  belong.  Matt  and  Hallie 
trembling,  seeing  Matt's  look.  talked.     Lorna    didn't   understand 

He  got  his  gray  felt  hat,  put  it  some  of  the  things  they  said.     It 

on,  and  hesitated  at  the  door.  "Are  was  her  first  experience  with  birth, 

you  coming,  Lorna?"    His  face  said  She  knew  they  didn't  really  need 

that  she  wouldn't.  her.     She  wanted  to  tell  Matt  to 

She  burned  under  his  look.  She  take  her  back.  But  she  knew  she 
was  shaking  from  head  to  foot.  She  couldn't.  She  felt  that  he  had 
disliked  his  knowing  that  she  was  already  forgotten  her,  and  leaned 
afraid  to  go,  yet  couldn't  let  him  forward  to  say  something.  Matt 
go  alone.  Her  hands  shook  as  she  answered  a  little  curtly, 
slipped  into  a  light  wrap  and  fol- 
lowed him  outside  to  wait  near  the  J-JE  was  driving  swiftly,  yet  care- 
garage.          .  fully.    The  streets  of  the  town 

She  had  never  known  that  night  were  slim  pencils  of  brightness  un- 

could  be  so  dark.    The  stars  seemed  der   his   headlights.     They   passed 

to  brush   against  her   curls.     The  the  house  where  Anne  lived.  Then, 

noise  of  the  car  as  Matt  backed  a  little  further  on,  the  house  where 

it   from   the   garage   sounded   like  Margaret    lived    with    her    elderly 

thunder  in  her  ears.  aunt.    Then  they  were  out  in  the 

She  saw  a  shadowy  form  crossing  plain  of  the  valley.    Her  body  grew 

the  lawn,  and,  although  her  com-  weak  as  she  thought  of  four  small 

mon  sense  told  her  it  was  Hallie  children  and  a  creaking  barn! 

in  cape  and  uniform,  she  made  a  There  were  lights  in  the  small, 

queer,  strangled  little  sound.  Hallie  low  farmhouse  as  Matt  turned  the 

stared  at  her  in  astonishment.  car  into  a  cluttered  dooryard.  Lor- 

"Oh,    it's    you,    Mrs.    Wire!      I  na  stumbled  a  little  on  a  child's  toy 

couldn't  think  who'd  be  out  at  this  as  Matt  helped  her  out  of  the  car. 

time  of  night."     She  glanced  at  Her  fingers  clung  in  desperation  to 


his.    He  loosened  them  firmly,  yet  their    little    group.     Mr.    Honson 

gently.    She  saw  his  face.     It  was  spread  clean  hay  for  them  to  sit  on. 

intent,  serious.  The  children   clustered   near,   the 

-Til  send  Mr.  Honson  out  with  smallest  one  clinging  anxiously  to 

the    children,    Lorna.    You    wait  her  hand. 

here."    He  motioned  to  Hallie,  and  The  eldest  girl  asked  helplessly, 

opened    the    screen.     Lorna    felt  ''Is  Mummy  very  sick?" 

darkness  crushing  down  upon  her.  r  0RNA  shook  her  head  and  pat- 
She  wanted  to  run  after  them,  to  L,  ted  fte  ^    .  r-  am   «Your 

cling  to  Matt  s  arm.  Mummy  is  all  right.    Dr.  Matt  is 

Almost  immediately  Mr.  Honson  with  her  »     what  consoiation  in 

came  out,  leading  the  four  little  the  words>  even  for  herself>    Matt 

children.    They  had  been  wakened  was   near<     Everything   would   be 

from  sleep,  and  Lorna  saw  that  their  all  right     Now>  if  only  she  could 

small  faces  were  pinched  and  fear-  remember  some  stories.     She  cast 

ful     Although  she  knew  she  was  about  in  her  min(L  she  made  her. 

talking  in  a  too-grown-up  manner,  sdf  s  eak  cheerfully,  although  her 

she  wanted  to  reassure  them,  and  heart   beat   swiftly   at   ^   unfa. 

nersel*  •  miliar  noise. 

"Children,  come  out  with   me.  <Tn  teU  you  about          ;>    She 

I'll  tell  you  a  story  in  the  barn.  tried  hard  to  remember  any  story 

Your  Mummy  will  be  all  right,  and  which  Cousin  Em  had  told>    But 

pretty  soon  she'll  have  two  babies  there  hadn>t  been  many>     Cousin 

for  you  to  play  with."  Em  had  always  been  too  busy  to 

The  little  girls  jumped  up  and  bother  about  children's  stories.  She 

down  in   their  tiny  slippers,  and  couid  remember  none,  except  the 

clapped  their  small  hands  in  de-  st0ry  of  the  Baby  Jesus. 

light  at  the  thought  of  the  babies.  She  groped  for  the  right  words. 

The  boys  were  not  quite  so  jubi-  The  children's  eyes  grew  wide  with 

lant.     Mr.    Honson    thanked    her  eagerness  as  she  commenced.  Once 

gratefully.  in  a  while  Cliff  or  Harry  corrected 

'It's  good  of  you,  Mrs.  Wire,  to  her  carefully.    Once  in  a  while  her 
want  to  come  way  out  here  to  look  voice  died  quickly  while  she  list- 
after  the  children.    My  wife  and  I  ened  for  sounds  from  the  house, 
can  never  thank  you  enough."  Almost  with   the  finish  of  her 

Lorna's  cheeks  were  hot,  and  she  story,  a  tiny  wail  came  through  the 

was  glad  it  was  dark.    She  led  the  opened  door.    It  was  followed,  with- 

chattering  youngsters  into  the  barn,  in  minutes,  by  another  one.  Harry, 

She  heard  a  horse  stamping  his  hay,  the  eldest  boy  stood  up,  his  face 

and  a  cow  made  a  low  sound  be-  solemn,  yet  filled  with  glory, 

hind  her.  "Just  like  in  the  story,  Mrs.  Wire. 

The  moon  made  a  faint  path  of  A  little  baby— two  little  babies- 
silver   through    the   opened    door,  are  born." 

with  a  shadow  advancing  in  it.  Lor-  All  of  them  wanted  to  rush  in- 

na  jumped  until  she  saw  that  it  was  side.    Lorna  had  all  she  could  do 

only   a   kitten   which   had   joined  to  keep  them  at  her  side.    When 



their  father  came,  telling  them  that 
their  mother  was  all  right,  and  they 
could  see  the  twins,  they  leaped 
with  excitement  and  happiness. 

Lorna  calmed  them.  "You  all 
must  be  as  quiet  as  little  mice! 
Mummy  will  be  sleepy.  So  will  the 
twins.  Now,  let's  all  walk  soft- 
ly  .  .  .  ." 

She  smiled  to  see  them  rise  on 
tiptoe  in  their  little  slippers.  They 
whispered  as  they  walked  across 
the  yard.  The  smallest  clung  to 
her  hand  so  that  she,  too,  must  go 
inside  and  see  the  babies.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  sudden  tears  as  Mrs. 
Honson  spoke  in  a  faint,  grateful 

"It  was  so  kind,  Mrs.  Wire." 

I"  ORNA  was  ashamed.  She  saw 
Matt  and  Hallie  getting  ready 
to  leave.  She  avoided  Matt's  eyes. 
She  went  out  and  stood  on  the 
doorstep  and  shame  swept  over  her. 

She  hadn't  been  kind  and  gener- 
ous. She  had  been  selfish  and  pos- 
sessive. Matt  knew  and  so  did  Hal- 
lie.  There  was  no  use  pretending. 
When  they  came  out,  she  spoke 

"It's  almost  dawn,  Matt." 

He  looked  at  her,  and  said 
cryptically:  "So  it  is,  darling,"  as 
though  he  had  only  just  noticed. 

He  helped  her  into  the  car.  Hallie 
sat  at  his  side,  her  shoulders  bent 

with  weariness  under  her  dark  cape. 
She  took  off  her  stiff  white  cap  to 
let  the  cool  wind  stir  her  short, 
graying  hair. 

The  air  was  cool  against  Lorna's 
hot  face.  She  looked  at  the  valley 
in  the  pale  dawn  and  saw  that  all 
the  harsh  gray  lines  had  been 
washed  away  by  the  night. 

She  sighed  tiredly.  She  had 
been  so  frightened  during  the  night. 
Her  heart  had  pounded  so  loudly 
that  more  than  once  she  had  been 
worried  lest  it  alarm  the  children. 

A  smile  curved  her  soft  mouth. 
They  were  such  nice  children!  The 
little  girls  were  so  soft  and  cuddly. 
The  boys  more  manful,  yet  glad 
that  she  was  there. 

She  wondered  about  that.  The 
children  had  been  glad  she  was 
there  to  tell  them  a  story.  They 
had  been  nervous,  upset.  And  yet 
their  fears  had  flown  when  they  sat 
with  her  in  the  barn. 

Lorna  was  surprised  to  find  an- 
other thought  in  her  mind.  Why, 
in  quieting  their  fears,  she  had  for- 
gotten her  own.  She  smiled.  That 
was  what  Uncle  John  had  meant 
when  he  told  her  that  life  and 
cacti  were  filled  with  unsuspected 
prickles.  She  hadn't  suspected  that 
in  spite  of  her  own  selfish  desires, 
she  could  help  others!  She  was 
glad  it  had  turned  out  that  way! 
(To  be  continued) 


Hazel  M.  Thomson 

I  am  the  author  of  unwritten  things— 
I  cannot  tell  how  my  heart  sings, 
Or  to  what  heights  my  soul  is  borne 
As  a  warm  south  wind  that  blows 
On  winter's  frozen  face. 

Gardening — 

Food  for  the 


Pauline  M.  Hendeison 

Willard  Luce 


6  4  "X7"OUR  yard  always  looks  My  garden  is  much,  much  more 
J  so  nice/'  my  next  door  to  me  than  a  mere  section  of 
neighbor  greeted  me  the  planted  space  around  my  home.  It 
other  morning.  "But  it  must  be  is,  indeed,  many  things, 
such  a  lot  of  work  for  you."  It  can  be  a  release  from  pent-up 
Her  words  struck  me  with  a  little  tension  and  frustration.  If  I  am  up- 
shock  of  surprise,  for  I  have  never  set  or  angry,  that  is  when  I  like  to 
considered  my  gardening  in  terms  cultivate  my  flower  beds.  As  I 
of  "work."  We  chatted  briefly,  strike  my  hoe  into  the  earth,  each 
and  she  went  on  her  way,  but  as  weed  is  an  enemy  going  down  to 
I  returned  to  the  flower  bed  I  had  destruction.  By  the  time  the  bed 
been  cultivating,  I  contemplated  is  clear  of  weeds,  the  tension  is 
her  remark.  gone,  and  I  am  able  to  face  the 
Can  it  be  considered  work,  I  problem— whatever  it  may  be— 
wondered,  to  come  out  of  the  with  new  calmness, 
house  in  the  glow  of  early  morning,  Of  all  the  activities  involved  in 
and  with  a  hoe  gently  disturb  the  the  making  of  a  home,  the  planting 
cool,  chocolate-colored  earth  around  of  the  garden  is  by  far  the  most  re- 
rosebushes  fragrant  with  blossoms?  warding.  I  can  spend  hours  clean- 
And  where  is  the  drudgery  in  push-  ing  the  house,  only*  to  realize  that 
ing  a  spade  deep  into  the  yielding  in  a  few  days  I  shall  have  to  do  it 
soil,  while  the  friendly  sun  warms  all  over  again.  But  the  time  I 
one's  back  and  shoulders— almost  spend  in  the  garden  will  show  re- 
like  a  benediction  from  the  heav-  suits  for  an  entire  season,  perhaps 
ens?  even  for  years. 

Page  196 



A  garden  can  be  just  as  surely  a 
medium  for  self-expression  as  the 
painting  of  a  picture  or  the  writing 
of  a  poem.  And  no  special  talent 
is  needed.  A  garden  asks  only  lov- 
ing care,  and  it  will  flourish  and 
bloom  for  you,  whether  you  be  rich 
or  poor,  obscure  or  famous. 

There  is  a  lesson  in  faith  to  be 
learned  from  plants.  Someone 
once  said,  'To  tend  a  garden  is  to 
walk  with  God."  Certainly  a  wav- 
ering faith  cannot  help  but  be 
strengthened  as  one  watches  a  seed 
grow  from  a  tiny,  inanimate  object 
to  a  living,  flourishing  plant.  I  sel- 
dom witness  this  miracle  without 
thinking,  along  with  Robert  Brown- 
ing, that  indeed,  "God's  in  his  heav- 
en.   All's  right  with  the  world." 

A  garden  teaches  patience.  Grow- 
ing things  will  not  be  hurried. 
There  is  something  so  suggestive  of 
timelessness  about  the  processes  of 
nature.  I  have  often  reflected,  as  I 
set  out  young  plants,  and  felt  the 
rich  dark  earth  between  my  fingers, 
for  how  many  ages  has  this  self- 
same earth  existed— how  many  more 
it  will  still  exist!  And  I  find  my 
own  petty  troubles  fading  into  rela- 
tive insignificance. 

Once,  when  a  particularly  dark 
cloud  was  shadowing  my  life,  and 
there  seemed  no  hope  that  I  would 

ever  again  come  through  into  the 
sunshine,  I  happened  to  glance 
from  my  window  at  the  flowering 
peach  tree  I  had  planted  some  years 
before.  It  was  in  the  full  glory  of 
spring  bloom— a  mass  of  delicate 
pink  blossoms— breathtakingly  beau- 
tiful. Suddenly,  I  found  myself  re- 
membering how  that  same  tree 
looked  in  mid-winter— bare,  gray 
branches  silhouetted  against  a 
stormy  sky,  stark  and  dreary,  giving 
not  the  slightest  hint  of  the  beauty 
that  in  just  a  few  short  months 
would  burst  forth.  And  I  felt  a 
sudden  rebirth  of  hope  surge  with- 
in me.  I  thought,  just  as  that 
tree  has  come  from  ugliness  to 
beauty,  so  will  this  darkness  even- 
tually give  way  to  light.  And  I 
found  new  courage  to  go  on. 

My  garden  is  not  the  most  beau- 
tiful in  the  neighborhood.  To  me 
it  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  be. 
My  grass  is  not  the  greenest  nor  my 
flowers  the  largest  or  most  colorful. 
But  I  am  content.  Indeed,  the 
flowers  that  I  gather  sometimes 
seem  to  me  to  be  almost  like  an 
extra  bounty— a  sort  of  dividend 
from  something  that  has  already 
given  me  so  much. 

No,  I  cannot  agree  with  my 
neighbor  that  gardening  is  work. 
Rather  it  is  living  in  its  truest  sense. 

Q/wdight    Criour 

Marian  Schroder  Crothers 

Hushed  now  the  turmoil  of  the  day. 

Blue,  lengthening  shadows  gather  near, 

And  stilled  are  all  the  sounds  of  earth 

While  homeward,  silently,  birds  wing  their  way. 

Held  fast  in  this  brief  truce 

Between  the  night  and  day, 

Within  this  timeless,  twilight  hour, 

I  dream,  and  pray. 

A  Price  for  Wheat 

Angelyn  W.  Wadley 

WHO    can    say    what    some  needed,  since  the  buyers  knew  that 

specific  commodity— for  in-  as  the  date  set  for  departure  drew 

stance,  a  dress  or  a  suit  or  near,  the  Mormons  would  be  forced 

a  sack  of  wheat— is  actually  worth?  to  accept  whatever  fraction  of  the 

In    an    economy    such    as    pre-  value  was  offered  for  their  property, 

vailed  during  the  pioneer  period  in  He  was  unable  to  obtain  the  two 

Utah,  when  the  law  of  supply  and  hundred  dollars  he  needed,  and  the 

demand    operated    without    inter-  people  tried  to  prevent  him  from 

ference  of  arbitrary  price  controls  or  leaving.    So,  although  the  Larsens 

price-fixing  arrangements,  the  cost  of  had   expected   to   have   plenty   to 

some  goods  rose  to  levels  that  seem  bring  them  to  their  destination  and 

shocking  now,  even  by  comparison  to  establish  their  new  home,  in  the 

with    today's    sky-rocketing    price  end  they  were  forced  to  leave  their 

tags.     In  an  issue  of  The  Deseret  oldest  daughter,   Hannah,   with   a 

News  dated  May  of  1865,  wheat  family  who  planned  to  come  later, 

was  listed  at  $6  per  bushel,  butter  at  She   was   only   fourteen,   but   she 

$1.25  a  pound,  sugar  at  $1  a  pound,  could  earn  enough  by  sewing  to 

flour  at  $16  per  hundred  weight,  pay  for  her  board  and,  in  addition, 

and  coal  oil  at  $12  a  gallon.  save  some  money  towards  the  ex- 

The  cash  price  of  these  items  pense  of  her  own  trip  to  America, 
was  of  little  concern  to  many  peo-        The  Larsens  arrived  in  Salt  Lake 

pie,  however,  for  money  they  didn't  City  in  September  without  money 

have,  and  "store-bought"  goods  they  and     without    food.      A     former 

had  to  do  without.    And  yet,  when  neighbor     from     Denmark,     who 

exchange  was  by  barter,  instead  of  owned  a  team  and  a  wagon,  took 

purchase  for  cash,  the  cost  of  neces-  them  to  Draper,  where  they  found 

sities,  especially  the  scarce  ones,  was  a  place  to  live.    It  was  harvest  time, 

sometimes  heartbreakingly  high  in  so  both  Lars  and  his  son  soon  found 

effort,  emotion,  and  personal  sacri-  work.     They    flailed    out    enough 

flee.  wheat   to   earn   three  bushels   for 

Such   was   the  price  my   great-  themselves.      Most    of    this    they 

grandfather  paid  for  his  wheat  in  planned  to  save  for  seed  the  follow- 

the  spring  of  1864.  ing  year,  but  it  had  to  be  moved 

Lars  and  his  wife,  Maren,  with  across  the  Jordan  river,  and  on  the 

eleven-year-old    Peter    and    seven-  rickety  bridge  the  loaded  cart  tipped 

year-old    Christine,   had   come    to  into  the  water,  and  they  lost  all  the 

Utah   from   Denmark.     Lars   had  wheat. 

been  a  thrifty  farmer,  but  after  he  Early  the  next  spring  they  moved 
and  his  family  had  accepted  the  to  Pleasant  Grove,  where  they  bar- 
message  of  the  gospel  and  decided  gained  for  a  small  piece  of  ground, 
to  migrate  to  Utah,  he  had  not  with  a  dugout  for  a  home,  agreeing 
been  able  to  get  as  much  money  to  pay  for  it  from  the  harvest  in 
from  the  sale  of  his  farm  as  he  the  fall.    But  obviously  there  could 

Page  198 


be  no  harvest  without  a  planting,  trip,    but    he    couldn't    stay    long 

and  Lars  had  nothing  to  plant.  He'  enough  to  work  for  the  grain,  nor 

borrowed  a  team  of  oxen  to  plow  could  he  expect  anyone  to  trust  him 

his  ground,  and  for  each  day  he  until   harvest   time,   with   seed   so 

used  the  team  he  worked  two  days  much  in  demand, 

for  the  owner,  but  he  wasn't  able  Whatever  household  goods  they 

to  work  in  exchange  for  wheat,  for  had  owned  that  had  had  any  value 

none  of  his  neighbors  had  any  to  had  been  sold  for  passage  money, 

spare.  Now  it  wasn't  a  matter  of  choice 

and  decision,  for  there  was  nothing 

YOUNG    Peter    had    stayed    in  to  sell  except  their  best  clothes. 

1    Draper  to  earn  his  board  and  a  Maren  *«*  her  husband's  best 

small  wage  herding  sheep.    Lars  re-  suit  °u*  of  ^  wooden  chest.     It 

membered  seeing  a  large  strawstack  was  difficult  for  her  to  let  it  go, 

on  the  place  where  his  son  worked,  for  she  knew  that  for  the  rest  of  his 

Perhaps  he  would  be  able  to  get  a  life  Lars  would  probably  never  have 

little  wheat  there,  and  it  could  be  another    one    so    fine.    She    had 

paid  for  out  of  Peter's  wages.  So  he  combed  and  spun  the  wool  herself, 

tossed  a  sack  over  his  shoulder  and  and  she  had  made  and  dyed  the 

walked    about    eighteen    miles    to  cloth.    Love  was  woven  into  every 

Draper  to  find  out.     Discouraged,  inch  of  it.    Maren  had  seen  it  on 

footsore,  and  weary,  he  returned  the  Lars  only  once— on  the  day  when 

next    day    with    the    sack    empty,  he  had  first  brought  it  home  and 

Neither  in   Draper   nor  anywhere  tried  it  on  for  her. 

along  the  way  could  he  obtain  any  But  there  was  no  use  protesting 

wheat.  about  taking  it.    She  knew  it  had 

Each    morning   and   evening   as  to  go.    Perhaps  even  that  wouldn't 

the  Larsens  knelt  in  prayer,  they  be  enough.    It  might  not  seem  so 

asked    that   some   way   would   be  valuable  to  someone  else, 

opened  for  them  to  get  the  seed  so  She   hesitated   only  a   moment, 

sorely    needed.     Then,    one    day,  then  she  took  her  wedding  dress  out 

Lars  heard  that  someone  had  come  of  the  chest.     It  was  a  beautiful 

up  from  Sanpete  Valley  and  report-  black    alpaca,    not    new    now,    of 

ed  that  there  was  wheat  for  sale  course,  but  still  as  good  as  new.  She 

down  there.    A  man  from  Pleasant  had  made  it  herself,  and  she  was 

Grove  was  going  to  take  a  wagon-  an  expert  seamstress.    For  a  brief 

load  of  molasses  down  to  exchange  moment  she  held  it  up  against  her, 

for  wheat.    Lars  rushed  to  see  this  remembering  her  dreams  as  she  had 

man  and  offered  him  a  day's  work  sewed  on  it,  and  her  joy  as  she  had 

for  each  day  they  were  gone  if  he  worn  it  on  the  day  of  her  marriage, 

could  go  along  and  bring  back  some  She  blinked  back  the  tears  as  she 

wheat  for  himself.  To  this  the  man  began  to  fold  it— oh,  so  carefully, 

agreed,  and  Lars  went  home  over-  for   she  had   planned   to   keep   it 

joyed  to  tell  Maren  the  good  news,  always. 

But  how  could  they  pay  for  the  But  food  was  far  more  important 

wheat?     Lars  could  work  for  the  than  a  dress,  especially  this  dress, 



which  she  was  keeping  out  of  senti- 
ment and  didn't  really  need.  If 
they  could  get  even  a  little  more 
grain  than  was  needed  for  planting, 
it  would  be  so  good  to  have  some 
bread  again. 

It  might  seem  that  they  paid 
quite  a  price  for  the  amount  of 
wheat  Lars  was  able  to  bring  back. 
But  perhaps  it  wasn't  too  much,  for 
this  was  the  turning  point  in  this 
family's  fortunes.  Never  again  were 
they  in  serious  want.  Their  effort 
and  sacrifice  were  rewarded  with  a 
generous  harvest.  They  paid  for  their 

first  fields  and  bargained  for  a  few 
acres  more,  and  they  soon  replaced 
their  dugout  with  a  comfortable 
adobe  house. 

Yes,  it  was  quite  a  price  to  pay 
for  a  little  wheat,  but  they  were 
willing  to  pay  it.  They  proved  to 
themselves  that  those  who  have 
both  faith  and  determination  can 
find  ways  to  solve  their  own  prob- 
lems and  to  care  for  their  own  needs. 
They  and  other  pioneers  set  an  ex- 
ample to  all  Latter-day  Saints  living 
today  to  care  for  themselves  through 
thrift,  industry,  and  sacrifice,  if 
need  be. 

» ♦  • 

Dear  Conquest 

(Continued  from  page  165) 
nearly  as  dark.  Charlie  liked  to  up  rather  suddenly,  but  there's  no 
josh  a  lot,  but  he  didn't  talk  much  better  way  of  getting  acquainted." 
during  that  dance.  I  could  see  he  '  Maggie  brushed  the  hair  back 
cheered  up  some  after  the  dance  from  her  face.  I  had  heard  her  re- 
was  over,  and  he'd  claimed  Maggie  fuse  Andy  to  go  to  the  cowboy 
again.  show  at  the  Palace  for  tonight. 

It  was  good  that  the  next  day  was  "I'd  love  to  go,"  she  said  slowly. 
Saturday.  Maggie  was  up  fixing  her  "Of  course  you  and  John  are  in- 
own  breakfast  when  I  finally  came  vited,"  Ira  said  to  me. 
to  the  kitchen.     "I  like  to  cook,"  "Thank   you,"    I   replied,   "we'd 
she  smiled.     She  wiped  my  dishes  like  it  a  lot." 

and  then  climbed  on  the  stool  to 
put  them  away  in  my  high,  incon- 
venient, old-fashioned  cupboards. 

Ira  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
and  Maggie  got  down  from  the 
stool.    "Ill  have  to  wash  my  hair, 

Ira  Scott  opened  the  back  kitch-     and  maybe  iron  something.     Oh, 

en  door  and  smiled  "I  knocked  at 
the  front  door,  but  I  expect  no  one 

Maggie  stood  on  the  stool  hold- 
ing my  blue  china  cream  pitcher. 

''We've  been  making  lots  of 
noise  back  here,"  I  said  to  Ira,  wait- 
ing for  Maggie  to  speak.  . 

"I  wanted  to  ask  Maggie  to  a 
wiener  roast  up  on  Indian  Moun- 
tain tonight.    I'm  getting  the  party 

dear!"  She  whirled  around,  and  I 
could  see  the  color  in  her  face. 

'Til  make  a  three-layer  cake  and 
take,"  I  said.  "Ira's  cousin  Annie 
is  probably  arranging  most  of  it. 
I'll  call  her  and  tell  her." 

But  Maggie  was  standing  by  the 
wire  screen  door,  her  eyes  on  In- 
dian Mountain.  She  hadn't  heard 
a  word  I'd  said. 

(To  be  continued) 

II  lulttpie  (/lobbies    II lake  uier  uiappy 

Rebecca  H.  Tracy  of  Burley,  Idaho,  Is  an  Expert  With  Needle 

and  Crochet  Hook. 

Although  she  is  an  expert  seamstress  and  has  done  all  kinds  of  plain  and  fancy 
sewing,  as  well  as  knitting,  in  many  patterns  and  stitches,  Mrs.  Tracy's  favorite  hobby 
is  crocheting.  At  the  age  of  eighty-three,  she  still  plies  her  crochet  hook, 
creating  many  designs  of  great  beauty  and  making  bedspreads,  tablecloths,  doilies,  chair 
covers,  and  numerous  trimmings  and  edges  and  rosettes. 

Her  life  has  also  been  busy  with  more  active  pursuits.  Her  large  family,  thirteen 
children,  sixty  grandchildren,  and  eighty-five  great-grandchildren,  have  received  devoted 
interest  and  kindly  assistance  in  their  problems  and  in  their  various  activities.  Three 
sons,  five  grandsons,  and  two  granddaughters  have  completed  missions,  and  three  grand- 
sons are  now  in  the  mission  field.  For  sixty -five  years  Sister  Tracy  has  been  a  Relief 
Society  visiting  teacher,  twelve  years  a  Relief  Society  secretary,  and  she  has  been  an 
officer  in  nearly  all  of  the  other  auxiliary  organizations. 

Not  the  least  among  her  "more  useful"  hobbies  has  been  her  devoted  care  of 
the  sick,  and  visiting  and  assisting  the  needy  and  the  bereaved. 

QJaded    lliemoryi 

Alice  R.  Rich 

A  note  of  Irish  laughter  as  lilting  as  a  breeze 

And  delicate  as  perfume  in  April  apple  trees, 

Waked  when  a  sprig  of  shamrock,  green  as  the  emerald  sea, 

Released  a  faded  memory  and  tossed  its  breath  to  me. 

Page  201 

<A.  dramily  Us   What    you   (BaJie  Qt 

Elsie  Sim  Hansen 

HPHE  other  night,  much  to  my 
surprise,  my  husband  came  home 
with  a  loaf  of  bread  tucked  under 
his  arm. 

As  soon  as  he  placed  the  bread 
down  on  the  corner  of  the  kitchen 
table,  I  knew  it  had  not  come  from 
the  market.  I  also  noticed  Jim  was 
grinning.  As  I  picked  up  the  bread, 
I  asked,  "Jim,  where  did  you  get 
this?  It  looks  like  homemade  whole 

Flipping  a  loose  curl  on  the  back 
of  my  neck,  Jim  answered,  "It  is, 
honey.  We  had  a  demonstration 
down  at  the  store  today.  This 
bread  was  left,  and  Miss  Mead,  the 
demonstrator,  told  me  to  take  it 
home.  It  sure  is  good,  I  had  a  sam- 
ple. You  know,  Marge,  I  was  just 
thinking  on  my  way  home,  mother 
used  to  make  bread  like  this  when 
I  was  a  kid.  I  wonder  why  more 
women  don't  do  their  own  baking 
nowadays.  Why  don't  you  try  it 

Jim  had  given  me  an  idea.  Why 
shouldn't  I  try  making  some  bread? 
It  probably  wouldn't  be  as  light  as 
that  we  had  been  eating,  but  it 
might  help  out  on  our  budget. 

The  next  morning,  after  the  chil- 
dren had  left  for  school,  I  got  out 
my  recipe  book  and  decided  to  try 
my  luck.  I  was  really  surprised  how 
simple  the  recipe  was.  Of  course, 
it  took  a  little  practice.  Some  of  the 
maneuvers  I  went  through  getting 
the  bread  mixed  to  the  proper  con- 
sistency would  have  made  good  ma- 
terial for  a  comic  book,  but  the  re- 
sults were  worth  it. 

There  was  something  so  whole- 
some and  appetizing  about  the 
aroma  of  that  homemade  bread 
when  I  opened  the  oven  door  it 
made  me  tingle  all  over,  like  the 
smell  of  chili  sauce  cooking  on  a 
crisp  autumn  day,  when  I  would 
be  walking  home  from  high  school. 

That  same  day,  after  school,  I 
wished  that  an  artist  could  have 
been  in  my  kitchen  and  painted  a 
picture  of  my  young  son,  as  he  took 
the  first  man-sized  bite  out  of  a 
warm  slice  of  the  golden  brown 
bread,  laden  with  honey.  I  am  sure 
it  would  have  been  a  masterpiece. 

I  shall  never  be  too  busy  from 
now  on  to  make  bread,  because  I 
have  learned  that  a  wealthy,  happy 
family,  is  a  healthy,  well-fed  family. 

Page  202 

oLovelu  c/htrigs 

Grace  Barker  Wilson 

I  have  loved  the  shine  of  moonlight  on  the  waters 
Of  the  restless  ocean  when  the  storm  wind  blows; 
And  the  silhouette  of  mountains  in  the  sunset 
As  a  golden  western  day  draws  to  its  close. 

I  have  loved  white  clouds  against  a  sky  of  azure, 
But  more  beautiful  than  any  other  thing 
I  find  the  pinkness  of  the  earliest  peach  blossoms, 
And  the  greening  apple  orchards  in  the  spring. 

The  Wearing  of  the  Gay 

(Continued  from  page  172) 

day,  and  everyone  had  been  sewing,  carpetbag  on  me  way  to  the  sta- 
except  Sarah  Hall,  and  her  turning  tion,"  she  said,  as  she  put  the  old 
out  cookies  like  for  a  carnival,  worn  bag  on  the  chair  by  the  door. 
Queer  thing,  too,  not  one  of  them  Granny  slipped  into  the  little 
had  mentioned  her  taking  off  for  Relief  Society  house  while  the  la- 
keland. And  everyone  of  them  had  dies  blended  their  voices,  as  Mary 
said,  "See  you  at  meeting  tomor-  Stone  pedaled  the  organ  to  the  tune 
row,"  just  as  if  she  were  going  to  "We  Ever  Pray  for  Thee/'  Gran- 
be  around  forever.  ny  was  caught  up  into  the  familiar- 
*  *  *  *  ity  of  it  all:  Sister  Helen  Morgan 
(BRANNY  came  to  with  a  start,  presiding  and  Sarah  Hall  conduct- 
°  It  wasn't  Monday,  but  Tues-  ing  the  services.  Sister  Bessie 
day.  "If  this  don't  beat  the  Irish,  Moore  sat  at  the  little  secretary 
me  takin'  a  nap  in  the  middle  o'  the  taole-  At  sight  of  Granny,  Bessie 
day.  And  a  long  time  a  sleepin'  I  smiled  and  made  a  mark  of  attend- 
been.  Faith  the  cedar  bough's  ance  on  the  roll, 
burned  blacker  than  pitch."  Sister  Hall  gave  a  few  words  of 

Had  she  missed  the  train?  Gran-  welcome:  "We're  glad  to  see  the 
ny  looked  at  the  clock  on  the  man-  house  full  today.  We're  especially 
tel.  It  said  1:50.  "Land  sakes,  if  glad  to  have  Granny  O'Donnell 
the  clock  isn't  tryin'  itself  to  be  with  us.  We  were  just  thinking 
poky  today.  It  is  only  ten  minutes  about  going  after  her  in  a  car  when 
to  two  and  me  with  three  more  she  walked  in.  Who  but  Granny 
hours  to  wait  for  the  train.  The  would  make  time,  the  very  day  she 
ladies  will  be  congregatin'  at  the  lit-  was  leaving  for  Ireland,  to  attend 
tie  Relief  Society  house  by  now.  Relief  Society?  Bless  her  heart,  we 
Here  I  was  fixin'  to  skip  on  the  are  glad  she  is  with  us." 
train  without  the  ladies  seein'  this  Martha  Tingey  gave  the  opening 
same  old  black  plush  coat  'till  me  prayer.  Granny  wiped  an  unseen 
bring  meself  back  from  me  home-  tear  at  the  closing,  "Go  with  Gran- 
land.  But,  since  it's  not  yet  two,  ny  on  her  trip,  is  our  fervent  prayer, 
and  I  got  me  best  clothes  on,  why,  and  protect  her." 
I  best  not  miss  the  last  meetin'  Granny  was  glad  now  she  had 
after  all.  If  I've  a  mind  ta  step  come  to  meeting.  What  did  it  mat- 
lively  I  can  get  to  meetin'  and  slip  ter  about  the  old  plush  coat,  or 
in  whilst  they're  standin'  for  the  even  the  carpetbag?  These  were 
opening  song."  her  real  friends,  they  loved  her  as 

Granny    hurriedly    put    on    the  she  was. 

black  plush  coat,  pinned  the  hat  "And  now  we'll  have  a  word  from 

on  securely,  not  bothering  to  glance  our  president."    Sarah  Hall  smiled 

in  the  mirror.    After  wearing  a  hat  at  Helen  Morgan.    President  Mor- 

a  matter  of  years,  the  curves  fit  the  gan  arose,  and  calmly  took  her  place 

right  places.    "I'll  just  pick  up  me  at  the  little  white  pulpit. 

Page  203 

204  ft£U£f  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAftCH  1$$2 

/BRANNY    kept    thinking    about  Helen   Morgan    seated   Granny   in 

the  train.  What  if  it  came  way  the  armchair, 
early  today?  Her  eyes  looked  past  Everyone  was  expectantly  silent, 
the  president  and  watched  the  then  Sister  Morgan  spoke:  "Gran- 
squares  of  blue  sky  through  the  ny  O'Donnell,  I'm  not  good  at 
windows.  Her  eyes  traveled  about  speeches,  but  the  ladies  of  the  ward 
the  little  white  building.  Soon  she  remembered  all  the  quilts  and  sew- 
would  be  speeding  away  from  this  ing  you  have  done  for  others  in  the 
place  she  loved.  What  was  Sister  thirty  years  you've  been  in  our 
Morgan  saying?  ward,  and,  well,  all  of  us  wanted  to 

'This    is    a    fifth    Tuesday,    and  make  a  wardrobe  for  you,  as  a  sort 

since  we  have  our  welfare  complet-  of    going    away    present.      There's 

ed,  we  thought  we  would  just  turn  everything  we  thought  you  would 

the  hour  into  a  social.    We'll  all  go  need,  from  a  good  warm  coat  to 

next  door  to  my  house,  and  have  a  dainty  crochet-edged  hankies.  And 

little  going  away  party  for  Granny.  Sarah,  bless  her  heart,  even  thought 

Granny  and  I  will  lead  the  way,  the  of   packing  a   box   of  goodies   for 

others  follow  us  out  in  twos."  Hel-  you  to  munch  on  the  way." 

en  Morgan  walked  down  the  little  Helen  held  up  the  gaily  wrapped 

aisle.  "Here,  Granny,  take  my  arm."  box  Granny  had  seen  at  the  Hall 

Things  became  hazy  in  front  of  home  the  day  before.     "Here's  a 

Granny.      One    couldn't    see   well  large  steamer  suitcase  which  Sister 

when    the    eyes    were    misty,    but  Hall  is  lending  you,  and  a  small 

Granny    smiled    and    took    Sister  overnight  bag,   which   is   yours   to 

Morgan's   arm   and   they   led   the  keep.     Now,  before  we  pack  the 

procession  while  Mary  Stone  pedal-  clothes  in  them,  the  girls  want  to 

ed  the  organ  to  the  tune  "A  Hun-  see  you  model  the  clothes,  Gran- 

dred  Thousand  Strong."  ny."     Helen  Morgan  put  her  arm 

As  the  group  left  the  little  chapel,  gently  on  Granny's  shoulder, 

one  by  one,  they  started  singing  the  "Speech,"  everyone  shouted, 
words.    Granny's  vision  cleared  and 

she  sang  gaily  with  the  group,  in  ^RANNY  O'Donnell  was   trem- 

her  rich  Irish  brogue.  As  they  en-  bling  when  she  arose.    Never  in 

tered  Helen  Morgan's  long  living  her  wildest  dreams  had  she  expected 

room,  Granny  wasn't  prepared  for  to  have  an  entire  new  wardrobe  at 

what  she  saw.    At  the  far  end  of  one  time.  At  length  she  found  her 

the  room  was  strung  a  wire,  and  voice. 

hanging  on  the  wire  and  draped  on  "Ah  'tis  I  who  is  lackin'  at  speech 
a  sheet,  was  a  complete  wardrobe,  makin'.  But  me  heart  is  full  to 
suits,  top  coat,  hat,  slips,  under-  overflowin'  with  gratitude.  Why, 
things,  why  there  was  the  very  ki-  even  if  I  had  the  money,  which  Pa- 
mono  that  Bessie  Moore  had  been  tricia  O'Donnell  has  not,  why,  be- 
sewing  yesterday,  and  the  four  gorry,  I  couldn't  buy  such  an  array 
blouses  Helen  Morgan  had  pressed,  of  clothes  in  Salt  Lake  City  tomor- 

The  ladies  put  up  folding  chairs  row.     And  ta  think  ye  dear  ladies 

in  a  double  circle  around  the  room,  has  sewed  'em  with  yer  own  hands. 



May  the  Lord  bless  ya,   I   pray." 
Granny  sat  down. 

The  moment  seemed  almost 
sacred.  No  one  clapped.  Then  Bes- 
sie Moore  and  Sarah  Hall  took 
Granny  by  the  arm  and  took  her 
off  to  the  bedroom,  while  Mary 
Stone  and  Martha  Tingey  took  the 
gray  suit  and  the  green  suit  from 
the  line.  Granny  recognized  them 
now.  They  were  the  suits  she  had 
presumed  belonged  to  the  Morgan 
girls  yesterday.  Hannah  Jones  fol- 
lowed with  the  necessary  acces- 
sories for  each  suit. 

Granny  tried  on  the  green  suit 
first.  It  fit  perfectly.  She  paraded 
the  length  of  the  room  with  charm 
and  dignity.  Never  had  a  model 
pivoted  on  Fifth  Avenue  to  equal 
Granny  O'Donnell.  Then  back  to 
the  bedroom,  and  helping  hands 
fitted  her  into  the  gray  suit,  with 
the  tailored  buttonholes,  and  trim, 
good  lines. 

"She  looks  beautiful  in  the  gray. 
She  looks  distinguished  and  im- 
pressive, but  the  green  suit,  with 
the  cocky  little  hat  and  feather,  is 
best  for  her.  It's  more  like  the 
Granny  we  know,"  Bessie  Moore 
said.  Then  she  added,  "She  should 
wear  the  green  when  she  goes  on 
the  train." 

"Yes,  Granny,  green  surely  is 
your  color,"  the  whole  group 

Granny  studied  herself  in  the 
mirror.  The  gray  made  her  look 
all  of  her  seventy  years,  but  they 
were  good  years,  with  trim  and  en- 
chanting lines.  Granny  lifted  her 
eyes  from  the  hem  of  the  suit  to 
the  features  of  her  face.  She  smiled 
at  her  reflection.    Then,  when  she 




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spoke,  the  hum  and  laughter  of  the 
group  stopped. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  ya  what  I'll  do. 
I'll  be  seen  wearin'  the  gray  as  I  go 
through  the  big  places:  Salt  Lake 
City,  Chicago,  New  York,  so  as  to 
look  distinguished.  But  ya  can  be 
sure  when  I  touch  the  soil  o'  the 
Emerald  Isle,  it  will  be  the  wearin' 
of  the  green  I'll  be  a  doin\" 

The  group  clapped,  then  someone 
called  out,  "Good  for  you,  Granny." 

Granny  looked  again  at  her  re- 
flection in  the  mirror.  The  clothes 
did  a  lot  for  her,  it  was  true,  but 
clothes  weren't  the  most  important 
thing  after  all.  It  didn't  matter  so 
much  if  one  was  wearing  the  green 
or  the  gray,  the  important  thing  was 
for  a  person  to  make  sure  all  one's 
facial  wrinkles  were  the  kind  that 
turned  upward.  Yes,  the  important 
thing  was  the  smile— the  wearing 
of  the  gay. 

\£ift  QJrom  Spring 

Ora  Lee  Parthesius 

Flirt  of  a  wind 
And  dash  of  rain; 
Hat-lure  behind 
A  window  pane; 

Umbrella  sheen 
Like  flowered  glass; 
Unearthly  green 
Of  wet,  new  grass. 

Sky  with  a  rift 

Like  a  bluebird's  wing — 

Today  is  a  gift — 

You  are  right!  ....  From  Spring. 

JLets  Stuff  a  Lriug 

Thalia  Black 
/^UT  strips  of  material  three  inches  wide,  and  sew  together  end  to  end. 

Cut  strips  of  cotton  batting  one-inch  wide  and  fold  inside  the  strips  of  material. 
Stuffing  can  be  made  from  old  blankets,  cotton  from  a  worn-out  mattress,  or  even  old 
overalls  will  do. 

Sew  edges  of  material  together  on  the  machine,  holding  stuffing  firmly  inside. 

Braid  tightly. 

Lay  the  rug  flat  on  the  table  on  floor  while  sewing  the  braids  together,  so  that  it 
will  lie  flat  when  finished. 

Sew  with  heavy  linen  thread  doubled,  or  according  to  instructions  given  in  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine,  May  1949,  page  317. 

This  is  good  for  an  evening  of  family  fun  and  works  up  quickly  for  a  good-sized 
rug  in  a  single  evening. 

The  braids  are  about  two  inches  wide,  and  add  four  inches  to  the  size  of  the 
rug  with  each  round  of  sewing. 

Preserve  Your 

Relief  Society  Magazines 

For  Reference 

Have  your  Relief  Society 
Magazines  bound  into 
permanent  yearly  vol- 
umes. They  are  excellent 
for  reference.  Cost  is 
small.  Write  or  phone  to- 
day for  information. 

Deseret  News  Press 




Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 


1952  Edition 





The  best-known,  best-liked  garden  catalog 
in  the  Mountain  West. 

Includes  latest  All  -  America  selections; 
newest  rose  varieties  and  summer-flower- 
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Page  207 

Qjroin   I  Lear  and  eft 

Angelyn    W.    Wadley,    of   Providence, 

Utah,  author  of  "A  Price  for  Wheat," 
page  198,  tells  us  that  her  story  concerns 
her  great-grandfather,  Lars  Christian  Lar- 
sen,  his  wife,  Maren,  and  their  children. 

I  have  just  finished  reading  the  Janu- 
ary Magazine,  and  feel  I  must  tell  you 
about  two  or  three  things  in  it.  First 
and  foremost  is  the  editorial  "We  Seek 
After  These  Things."  It  is  so  good  and 
shows  such  insight  and  depth  of  charac- 
ter, and  is  beautifully  written.  I  am  com- 
ing more  and  more  to  believe  that  any 
message  to  get  across  must  be  put  in 
simple,  beautiful  language.  In  the  les- 
sons I  have  been  teaching  in  Sunday 
School  I  am  continually  impressed  with 
the  simplicity  and  the  wording  of  the 
teachings  of  Jesus.  I  like  Mabel  Hamp- 
er's story  "Eloise  and  the  Indian"  (First 
Prize  Story  in  the  Relief  Society  Short 
Story  Contest.)  The  theme  is  current 
and  very  important,  and  the  writing  is 
good — in  fact,  the  best  I  have  read  of 
Mabel's.  I  like  the  new  serial  "Uncer- 
tain Possession"  (by  Beatrice  R.  Parsons). 
It  starts  out  in  an  interesting  way  and 
holds  the  interest.  I  am  partial  to  serials, 
for  I  think  the  author  can  get  deeper  into 
motives  and  actions  in  a  serial  than  in  a 
short  story. 

— Dorothy  Clapp  Robinson 

Boise,  Idaho 

I  have  just  finished  reading  the  Janu- 
ary 1952  issue  of  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  and  wish  to  express  my  ap- 
preciation. I  greatly  enjoyed  the  poems, 
stories,  and  articles,  but  more  especially 
the  editorial  "We  Seek  After  These 
Things."  I  have  seldom  been  more  in- 
spired and  uplifted  than  by  that  edi- 

—Maud  O.  Cook 

Tremonton,  Utah 

I    sincerely   enjoy   The   Relief   Society 
Magazine.      Not    only    is    it    a    wealthy 
source  of  knowledge  for  our  lessons,  but 
a  pleasure  and  an  inspiration  to  read. 
— Lucille  Hatch  Nielson 

Burley,  Idaho 


I  enjoy  the  Magazine  from  cover  to 
cover  and  marvel  at  the  beautiful  scenes 
on  the  covers.  Mt.  Lassen  and  Reflec- 
tion Lake,  California,  the  frontispiece 
photograph  for  February  1951  was  per- 
fect. I  have  seen  it  many  times  while  I 
lived  in  Westwood,  California.  We  do 
not  have  an  L.D.S.  Church  here.  The 
nearest  is  about  twelve  miles,  so  you  can 
see  why  I  especially  enjoy  the  Magazine. 
— Mrs.  Jay  Cutright 

Bliss,  Idaho 

The  first  prize  story  in  the  January 
issue  of  the  Magazine,  "Eloise  and  the 
Indian,"  by  Mabel  Harmer,  particularly 
appealed  to  me  because  it  tells  of  a  prob- 
lem which  confronted  the  mothers  in 
our  locality  also.  The  story  is  very  well 
written  and  I  wish  to  thank  Mrs.  Harmer 
for  it.  All  of  the  prize-winning  poems 
touch  my  heart  as  they  are  timely  and 
very  beautiful.  It  is  a  joy  to  know  that 
our  Latter-day  Saint  women  are  thus  de- 
veloping their  talents. 

— Mrs.  Joyce  Christensen 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

May  I  offer  a  word  of  praise  for  the 
December  Magazine.  It  is  truly  beauti- 
ful, and  I  feel  proud  to  have  a  small 
space  within  its  covers  ("Winter  Witch- 
ery," page  864). 

— Alice  Whitson  Norton 

Nashville,  Tennessee 

Since  joining  the  Church  five  years 
ago  I  have  learned  to  love  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine,  and  each  month  I 
watch  eagerly  for  it.  We  have  found  the 
Church  magazines  completely  taking  the 
place  of  other  magazines  to  which  we 
once  subscribed.  Our  branch  is  medium- 
sized  and  growing  rapidly.  Nearly  100 
per  cent  of  the  women  are  subscribers 
to  the  Magazine. 

— Mrs.  Alice  M.  Schmidt 

Marion,  Iowa 

I  must  tell  you  I  believe  the  quality 
of  the  poetry  you  are  publishing  is  better 
and  better.  I  hope  to  have  mine  in- 
cluded occasionally. 

—Mrs.  Udell  Hill 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Page  208 


Inspiration   and  Guidance 
from  the  lives  of 


By  Bryant  S.  Hinckley 

A  collection  of  the  intensely  interesting  and 
inspiring  experiences  of  Heber  J.  <£o  C/\ 
Grant.  yA.DKJ 

By  Orson  F.  Whitney 

Woven  into  this  life  story  is  the  light  and 
color  of  the  times  in  which  he  <£*>  7C 
lived.  3>X./J 



By  John  Henry  Evans  and 

Minnie  Egan  Anderson 

This  biography  gives  convincing  evidence  of 
the  authenticity  of  the  Prophet's  dro  f\f\ 
mission.  ^)0.wU 

4th  Edition 

This  interesting  personal  life  story  was  edited 
by  the  son  of  Parley  P.  Pratt.    It  is 
well  illustrated  throughout. 


By  Orson  F.  Whitney 

The  biography  of  this  great  apostle,  and 
leader,  is  enriched  with  a  great  wealth  of 
Heber   C.   Kimball's   own  writings,     dro  (\f\ 


Compiled  by  Joseph  Fielding  Smith 

This  life  story  of  the  sixth  president  of  the 
Church  is  filled  with  rich,  faith  dro  yc 
promoting  experiences.  4>a»#  D 


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SS,  A  m  A  &  1  KF 

VOL  39    NO.  4 

Special  Short  Story  Issue 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 


Velma  N. 

Achsa  E.  Paxman 
Mary  G.  Judd 
Anna  B.  Hart 
Edith  S.  Elliott 
Florence  J.  Madsen 

Editor     - 
Associate   Editor 
General  Manager 

Belle  S.  Spafford 
Marianne  C.  Sharp 


C.  Pickering 

Leone  G.  Layton 
Blanche  B.  Stoddard 
Evon  W.  Peterson 
Leone  O.  Jacobs 
Mary  J.  Wilson 

-  First  Counselor 
Second  Counselor 
Lillie  C.  Adams  Christine  H.  Robinson 

Louise  W.  Madsen  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

Aleine  M.  Young  Nellie  W.  Neal 

Josie  B.  Bay  Mildred  B.  Eyring 

Alta  I.  Vance  Helen  W.  Anderson 


Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Vesta  P.  Crawford 

Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.   39 


No.   4 


on  tents 


The  Women  and  the  Resurrection  Matthew  Cowley  212 

Elder  Joseph  F.  Merrill  Ezra  Taft  Benson  217 

The  Family  Hour  Alberta  O.  and  Roy  W.  Doxey  225 

Save  These  Lives  246 


The  Long  Day  Maryhale  Woolsey  219 

Father  Was  a  Good  Provider  Inez  Bagnell  229 

A  Frame  for  Happiness  » Ora  Pate  Stewart  237 

Our  April  Short  Story  Writers  274 


Dear  Conquest  —  Part  II Deone  R.   Sutherland  255 

Uncertain  Possession  —  Chapter  4  Beatrice  R.  Parson  264 


Sixty  Years  Ago  242 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  243 

Editorial:    Tabernacle  in  the  Wilderness  Vesta  P.   Crawford  244 

Notes  to  the  Field:    Delay  in  Magazine  Subscriptions  246 

Notes  From  the  Field:    Relief  Society  Activities _ 

General  Secretary-Treasurer,   Margaret  C.  Pickering  269 

From  Near  and  Far  . 280 


Your  Flower  Garden  Dorthea   Newbold  247 

The  Second  Spring  Elsie   Sim   Hansen  254 

Two  Hobbies  —  Music  and  Needlecraft  260 

Low-Cost  Meat  and  Other  Protein  Dishes  Elna  Miller  261 

A  New  Life  for  Old  Greeting  Cards  Clara  Laster  267 

Better  Looking  Patches  —  Quicker  ! Thalia  Black  268 


Concerto  —  Frontispiece  Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard  211 

Return  Marian  Schroder  Crothers  216 

Do  You  Remember?  Grace   Sayre  236 

Easter  on  the  Hills Alice  Whitson  Norton  245 

Emigration  Lael   W.   Hill  245 

Talisman  Vesta  N.  Lukei  254 

Spring  Showing  Ouida  J.  Pedersen  254 

Easter  Morning  Eunice  J.  Miles  259 

Orchard  Spring  Ing  Smith  273 

Broken  Treasury  Margery  S.   Stewart  274 

Identity Pansye  H.  Powell  278 

Dawn  Beatrice  K.   Ekman  278 

April  Is  Here Grace  M.  Candland  279 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1.  Utah,  Phone  3-2741;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
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P""1,'1^""^^"^  r^^^T^f'W■^^^l|'5^^T,^^  'i-^Pt;^   M»  Wy^^^v^TT^-^-rT 


Lady  Gay  Matches  the  Ftewers  of  Spring  ♦  .  . 

■*&  *rtrf«4jSM^>i%;i¥;vi¥;  ^^SsSwtt^^ifw 


Petal-pretty  colors  bloom  in  long- 
lasting  warp  knit  rayon  that  can- 
not run.  Choose  your  own  dream- 
sweet  gowns  from  Lady  Gay's  two 
flattering,  comfortable  designs. 

A.  Surplus  bodice  above  a  wide, 
inset  waistband. 

B.  Gracefully   rounded   neckline; 
smooth,  inset  waistband. 

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Camera  Clix,  New  York 

From  a  Painting  by  Thomas  Wegener 


VOL  39,  NO.  4  APRIL  1952 


Eva  WiUes  Wangsgaard 

Across  the  centuries  soft  music  sings 

In  names  like  Bethlehem  and  Galilee. 

The  Mount  oi  Olives  stirs  deep  wonderings 

While  psalms  of  grief  run  through  Gethsemane. 

And  Calvary  can  bring  a  sudden  chill 

To  pierce  the  warmth  of  summer  with  a  cross, 

While  tree  which  shared  one  sad  day's  penal  hill 

Can  stir  compassion  for  all  human  loss. 

And  who  can  say  the  name  Capernaum 

And  not  see  all  the  blest  go  singing  by? 

Or  PiJate  and  not  hear  the  rising  hum 

Of  anger  mount  to  screams  of  "Crucify!"? 

And  who  can  say  "Arisen"  and  not  greet 

The  paean  sung  by  Mary's  running  feet? 

The  Cover:  Apple  Orchard  in  Montana,  Photograph  by  Ernest  Briscoe 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

The  Women  and  the  Resurrection 

Elder  Matthew  Cowley 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

IT  is  recorded  that  following  the 
resurrection  of  the  Redeemer 
of  mankind  there  were  many 
unto  whom  he  appeared  and  who 
beheld  him   as   an   immortal   soul 
possessed  of  flesh  and  bone. 

He  walked  and  talked  with  two 
of  his  disciples  as  they  journeyed 
toward  Emmaus,  but  as  they  walked 
together  he  withheld  his  identity. 
At  the  end  of  the  day's  journey  he 
brake  and  blessed  bread  for  them 
and  "their  eyes  were  opened,  and 
they  knew  him."  He  appeared  un- 
to Peter  who  but  a  few  short  days 
before  had  denied  him  three  times. 
At  Jerusalem,  at  the  Sea  of  Tiber- 
ias, and  at  the  -Mount  of  Olives, 
just  prior  to  his  ascension,  he  was 
seen  by  the  apostles.  He  revealed 
himself  as  an  immortal  resurrected 
being  to  five  hundred  of  the  breth- 
ren at  once.  But  the  first  witnesses 
of  the  most  remarkable  and  miracu- 
lous event  of  all  time  were  the 

On  another  occasion  during  his 
mortal  sojourn  among  men  he  had 
brought  joy  to  the  hearts  of  sor- 
rowing women  by  restoring  life  to 
one  who  had  died.  Lazarus,  whom 
Jesus  loved,  had  died  in  Judaea  and 
his  sisters,  Mary  and  Martha,  were 
bowed  down  in  grief.  They  had 
earnestly  prayed,  while  their  broth- 
er lay  sorely  afflicted,  that  their 
Lord  would  come  and  heal  him.  But 
four  long  days  elapsed  following 
the  burial  before  the  Master  ar- 
rived. Martha,  who  first  learned 
of  his  arrival  at  Bethany,  went  forth 

Page  212 

to  meet  him,  and  as  she  approached 
him,  she  said:  "Lord,  if  thou  hadst 
been  here,  my  brother  had  not 

Jesus  then  uttered  words  the 
meaning  of  which  Martha  did  not 
fully  understand.  He  said  to  her: 
"Thy  brother  shall  rise  again." 

To  these  words  which  were  in- 
tended to  assuage  her  grief  and  bring 
ecstatic  joy  to  her  heart,  Martha 
replied:  "I  know  that  he  shall  rise 
again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last 

In  answer,  Jesus  spoke  those  words 
which  have  ever  since  carried  com- 
fort and  hope  to  the  hearts  of 
every  believer  who  has  mourned  the 
death  of  a  loved  one:  "I  am  the 
resurrection,  and  the  life:  he  that 
believeth  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 

It  was  to  the  woman  that  he 
addressed  the  words  which  could 
have  been  uttered  only  by  a  divine 
personage.  This  saying  alone  was 
sufficient  to  place  upon  Jesus  the 
Redeemer  the  mark  of  divinity.  No 
other  religionist,  philosopher,  or 
teacher,  whether  living  or  dead,  has 
even  presumed  to  possess  the  super- 
natural power  suggested  by  those 
memorable  words. 

Mary,  who  had  been  apprised  of 
the  arrival  of  the  Master  at  Bethany, 
joined  Martha,  and  with  him  they 
hurried  to  the  place  where  the  body 
of  Lazarus  lay.  When  the  stone 
was  taken  away  from  the  grave 
Jesus    cried    with    a    loud    voice: 


"Lazarus,  come  forth!    And  he  that  There  were  other  incidents  which 

was  dead  came  forth."  would  indicate  a  wavering  of  devo- 

Here  was  witnessed  by  the  worn-  tion  on  the  part  of  his  brethren, 
en  a  miracle  which  was  performed  There  was  never,  on  the  other  hand, 
by  one  who  had  at  his  disposal  the  time  nor  an  occasion  when  the  de- 
powers  of  an  omnipotent  being,  votion  of  the  women  to  the  Savior 
Here  was  made  manifest  to  them  could  have  been  questioned.  The 
the  power  of  the  Redeemer  to  re-  constant  affection,  loyalty,  and  de- 
store  mortal  life  to  the  dead.  But  votion  of  the  Marys  and  the  other 
even  greater  and  certainly  more  im-  women  were  evident  under  every 
portant  than  this  miraculous  mani-  condition.  They  were  at  his  side 
festation  which  they  beheld  was  the  when  he  labored  up  the  hill  to  the 
resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God  him-  place  of  crucifixion.  They  wept  bit- 
self,  which  the  women  were  to  be  terly  as  they  walked  and,  as  he 
the  first  to  witness;  the  redemption  beheld  their  great  sorrow,  he  spoke 
of  a  personage  from  mortality  to  to  them  words  which  were  to  be 
immortality.  This  was  to  be  the  among  the  last  that  he  uttered, 
resurrection  of  him  who  had  the  They  were  words  of  tenderness,  yet 
power  not  only  to  lay  down  his  words  of  ominous  warning:  "Daugh- 
own  life,  but  to  take  it  up  again.  ters  of  Jerusalem,  weep  not  for  me, 

but  weep  for  yourselves,   and   for 

HPO   his   disciples   who   bore   the  your    children.     For,    behold,    the 

Priesthood,  and  with  whom  he  days  are  coming,  in  the  which  they 

had  been  intimately  associated  in  shall  say,   Blessed  are  the  barren, 

his   ministry,  he  had   foretold   his  and  the  wombs  that  never  bare  .... 

death   and   predicted   his   resurrec-  Then  shall  they  begin  to  say  to  the 

tion,  but  they  were  not  to  experi-  mountains,  Fall  on  us;  and  to  the 

ence  the  incidents  of  the  last  hours  hills,  Cover  us.    For  if  they  do  these 

of  his  mortal  sojourn  upon  the  earth  things  in  a  green  tree,  what  shall 

nor  the  earliest  hours  after  he  had  be  done  in  the  dry?" 

risen   from   the  tomb.     They   did  It  was  a  prophetic  warning  to  the 

not  follow  their  Lord  to  Calvary's  women    of    the    destructive    forces 

hill;  they  were  not  witnesses  of  his  which  were  approaching  and  which 

crucifixion;  they  were  not  near  by  would  lay  low  in  sorrow  and  an- 

at  the  scene  of  the  burial;  nor  were  guish   those  who  had   denied   the 

they  the  first  to  look  upon  the  risen  Lord.     They,  the  women,  were  at 

Redeemer.  the  foot  of  the  cross  and  heard  the 

One  of  the  chosen  Twelve  had  promise  he  spoke  to  the  penitent 

betrayed  him  into  the  hands  of  his  thief,  'To  day  shalt  thou  be  with 

assassins.      One    had    denied    him  me  in  paradise"— the  promise  that 

thrice  in  his  hour  of  trial,  and  the  carries  hope  and  salvation  beyond 

disciples   had   slept  when   he   had  the  grave  to  the  spirits  who  would 

urged    them    to    watch    while    he  believe  and  obey  the  gospel  which 

prayed.  On  more  than  one  occasion  he  would  take  to  them  during  the 

he    had    reprimanded    them    with  interval    between    his    death    and 

these  words:  "O  ye  of  little  faith/'  resurrection.       They      heard      the 


prayer  to  his  Father  for  mercy  to  with  spices  and  ointment  they  had 

them  who  were  nailing  him  to  the  prepared  before  at  the  time  of  the 

cross:    "Father,   forgive   them;   for  burial.     As    they    approached    the 

they  know  not  what  they  do."  They  tomb  they  were  met  by  an  angel 

were  beholding  him  when  he  looked  who  announced  to  them  the  glori- 

down,  with  a  tenderness  and  love  ous  fact  of  the  resurrection.  "Fear 

that  could  never  die,  at  her  who  not  ye:"  he  said  unto  them,  "for  I 

was  his  mother.    They,  no  doubt,  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus,  which  was 

listened    to    catch    the    words    he  crucified,  he  is  not  here:  for  he  is 

spoke  to  her.    Words  which  would  risen,  as  he  said.     Come,  see  the 

reveal   his   anxiety   for   her    future  place  where  the  Lord  lay." 

security.  After  looking  into  the  deserted 

To  the  grief-stricken  mother  he  sepulchre,   the  women   were   then 

said:    "Woman,   behold   thy   son."  commissioned  by  the  angel  to  be 

And    to    John    the    beloved    they  the  first  to  carry  the  message  of  the 

heard   him   give   this   gentle   com-  resurrection  to  the  disciples:  "And 

mand  "Behold  thy  mother!"    John  go   quickly,   and   tell   his   disciples 

immediately  grasped   the   meaning  that  he  is  risen  from  the  dead;  and, 

of  the  words— that  he  was  to  care  behold,  he  goeth  before  you  into 

for    the    mother— for    the    record  Galilee;  there  shall  ye  see  him." 

states:   "And  from  that  hour  that  Mary  of  Magdala  was  so  bowed 

disciple    took    her    unto    his    own  down  with  sorrow  upon  seeing  the 

home."  empty  grave  that  she  did  not  hear 

Following  the  departure  of  the  all  that  the  angel  had  said.     She 

mother  with  John,  the  other  worn-  hastened  to  the  disciples  "And  saith 

en  continued  at  the  place  of  cruci-  unto  them,  They  have  taken  away 

fixion   until   they  heard   from   the  the  Lord  out  of  the  sepulchre,  and 

lips  of  their  Lord  the  final  cry  of  we  know  not  where  they  have  laid 

victory:    "It   is    finished"    and    the  him." 

last    mortal    prayer    to    his    God:  Having  reported  that  the  body 

"Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  had  been  removed,  she  returned  to 

my  spirit."  the  garden  of  his  resting  place.  Here 

Notwithstanding  the  heartbreak-  she  was  presently  to  be  the  most 

ing    experience   of   witnessing   the  favored  of  women;  she  was  to  be- 

crucifixion  and  death  of  the  Master,  hold  the  immortal  resurrected  Son 

the  women  could  not  depart  from  of  God,  her  Lord  and  Master.  As 

following    after     him,     and     they  she  looked  again  into  the  sepulchre 

watched  from  a  short  distance  the  where   she   had   but  a   few  hours 

burial  of  the  body  in  the  sepulchre  since  beheld  the  lifeless  body,  she 

of  Joseph  of  Arimathaea.  saw  "two  angels  in  white  sitting, 

the  one  at  the  head,  and  the  other 

fXN  the  third  day  following  the  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus 

V  entombment  they  were  the  first  had  lain.  And  they  say  unto  her, 

to  discover  the  empty  grave.  They  Woman,  why  weepest  thou?" 

had  gone  early  in  the  day  to  the  And  the  woman  answered:  "Be- 

tomb  prepared  to  anoint  the  body  cause   they   have    taken    away    my 



Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they 
have  laid  him/' 

Then,  turning  back  away  from 
the  sepulchre,  there  stood  before 
her  one  whom  she  did  not  im- 
mediately recognize.  It  was  the 
Lord  whom  she  had  been  seeking. 
It  was  he  who  had  risen  from  the 

"Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Woman, 
why  weepest  thou?  whom  seekest 
thou?  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the 
gardener,  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if 
thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me 
where  thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I 
will  take  him  away/' 

Jesus  then  spoke  to  her  but  one 
word— and  the  tenderness  with 
which  the  word  was  uttered  revealed 
to  her  his  identity.  He  walked 
and  talked  with  two  of  his  disciples 
during  a  day's  journey  to  Emmaus 
not  long  after  the  resurrection,  but 
his  identity  was  withheld  from 
them.  But  only  one  word  was 
spoken  to  the  woman  and  she  no 
longer  supposed  him  to  be  the 
gardener.  "Jesus  saith  unto  her, 

The  burden  of  a  saddened  heart 
was  lifted  when  she  heard  her  name 
thus  spoken.  Many  times  before 
she  had  thus  been  addressed  by  her 
Lord,  but  never  before  had  her 
name  been  spoken  by  immortal 
lips.  It  was  a  woman's  name,  not 
the  name  of  a  disciple,  that  the 
resurrected  Son  of  God  first  ut- 
tered. To  him  Mary  was  the  most 
favored  of  names.  It  was  not  only 
the  name  of  the  first  woman  to 
whom  Christ  spoke  as  the  risen 
Lord.  It  was  the  name  of  the  saint- 
ed mother  who  had  given  him 
birth;  it  was  the  name  of  the  sister 
of  Lazarus  who  had  seen  him  re- 

store life  to  her  brother;  it  was  the 
name  of  the  mother  of  James  and 
John;  and  many  others  whom  he 
loved  no  doubt  bore  the  name 
which  he  had  spoken  to  the  woman 
in  the  garden  near  the  place  of  his 

As  he  uttered  the  name,  Mary 
beheld  that  it  was  Jesus  who  had 
spoken,  and  she  cried  out  to  him: 
"Rabboni;  which  is  to  say,  Master." 

She  was  the  first  to  behold  the 
resurrected  personage  and  she  was 
the  first  to  hear  his  voice,  but  she 
was  not  to  be  the  first  to  touch 
him.  "Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Touch 
me  not;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended 
to  my  Father." 

As  the  women  had  been  the  first 
commissioned  by  the  angel  to  an- 
nounce the  resurrection  of  Jesus  to 
the  disciples,  so  also  it  was  a  woman 
who  was  sent  by  the  Lord  himself 
to  proclaim  his  ascension  to  his 
Father;  "but  go  to  my  brethren, 
and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto 
my  Father,  and  your  Father;  and 
to  my  God,  and  your  God." 

He  later  was  seen  by  other  chos- 
en women  before  he  appeared  to 
the  Priesthood.  As  these  other 
women  were  returning  from  the  de- 
serted sepulchre  "Jesus  met  them, 
saying,  All  hail.  And  they  came 
and  held  him  by  the  feet,  and  wor- 
shipped him." 

Mary  Magdalene  had  been  the 
first  to  look  upon  the  Redeemer  in 
his  resurrected  state,  but  her  eager 
desire  to  embrace  him  was  not  to 
be  fulfilled.  It  was  the  other  wom- 
en who  later  saw  him  who  were 
granted  the  honored  privilege  of 
touching  the  body  of  the  first  soul 
who  had  conquered  death  and  the 



HPHE  memorable  episodes  of  the 
early  hours  following  upon  his 
resurrection  evidence  the  gracious 
and  considerate  appreciation  dis- 
played by  the  Lord  for  the  stead- 
fast devotion  and  enduring  love  of 
the  women.  Jesus  easily  restrained 
any  impulse  which  may  have  beset 
him  to  appear  first  to  his  disciples 
as  a  resurrected  personage,  rather 
than  to  the  women.  Manifesting 
himself  first  to  the  women  was  a  re- 
ward which  they  had  well  earned 
and  of  which  they  were  indeed 
worthy.  He  loved  the  brethren  of 
the  Priesthood,  but  the  faithful 
women  were  accorded  priority  in 
the  beholding  of  the  risen  Re- 

Not   she  with    trait'rous   kiss   her   Savior 

Not  she  denied  him  with  unholy  tongue; 
She,  while  apostles  shrank,  could  danger 

Last  at  his  cross,  and  earliest  at  his  grave. 


Christ's  tribute  to  woman  when 
he  revealed  himself  to  the  women 
before  he  appeared  to  his  chosen 
disciples,  was  second  only  to  that 
of  the  Father  when  he  selected  a 
mortal  woman  to  be  the  mother  of 
his  Only  Begotten  Son.  No  greater 
tributes  than  these  have  ever  been 
paid  to  womankind. 

Women  who  willingly  give  birth 
to  the  children  of  men  do  not  ques- 

tion the  fact  of  redemption  from 
the  dead.  As  they  suffer  the  pain 
and  processes  of  the  creation  and 
pulsations  of  the  embryonic  life 
within  them,  there  comes  to  them 
a  certain  conviction  that  redemp- 
tion from  death  can  be  no  more 
miraculous  than  birth.  They  have 
an  inward  witness  of  the  scientific 
truth  that  the  matter  and  elements 
of  life  are  indestructible.  The  ten- 
der love  of  a  mother  implants  with- 
in her  heart  the  certain  knowledge 
that  the  life  of  her  child  whose 
body  has  been  lowered  into  the 
grave  has  not  been  annihilated,  and 
that  the  physical  elements"  of  the 
body  which  was  formed  within  her 
may  again  be  brought  together  and 
become  a  resurrected  soul.  This 
sublime  faith  of  mothers  in  the 
fact  of  the  resurrection  shall  not  go 
unrewarded,  and  just  as  surely  as 
the  women  whom  Christ  loved  be- 
held his  body  which  had  risen  from 
the  tomb,  so  will  all  mothers  at  an 
appointed  time  look  upon  their 
children,  who  have  been  taken  by 
death,  as  resurrected  souls. 

'Tor  since  by  man  came  death, 
by  man  came  also  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead.  For  as  in  Adam  all 
die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be 
made  alive.  But  every  man  in  his 
own  order:  Christ  the  firstfruits; 
afterward  they  that  are  Christ's  at 
his  coming." 



Marfan  Schroder  Crothers 

All  yesterday,  spring  tapped  upon  my  windowpane, 
With  slender  fingers,  tipped  with  silver  rain. 
Today,  although  I  did  not  heed  her  call, 
Bright  jonquils  glow  along  my  garden  wall. 

Elder  Joseph  F.  Merrill 

(August  24,  1868  -  February  3,  1952) 

Elder  Ezra  Taft  Benson 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

UT  JE  has  fulfilled  every  call 

I  I  made  upon  him,  never 
excusing,  never  shirking, 
never  complaining.  He  has  been  a 
minute  man  in  the  service  of  the 
Lord  ..."  so  said  the  First  Presi- 
dency, as  they,  with  numerous 
others,  paid  high  tribute  to  Elder 
Joseph  F.  Merrill,  nationally  known 
churchman,  educator,  and  scien- 
tist. Coming  from  the  valley 
of  his  boyhood,  associating  with 
him  in  the  Quorum  of  Twelve,  and 
sharing  an  outer  office  in  the 
Church  Office  Building  have 
brought  a  deep  appreciation  and 
love  for  this  warm-hearted,  gener- 
ous servant  of  the  Lord. 

Through  inheritance,  experience, 
training,  and  practice,  he  developed 
those  rugged  qualities  that  make 
for  sterling  character.  Born  and 
reared  on  a  farm,  he  was  driving 
cows  long  distances  to  pasture  at 
five  years  of  age  and  later  walked 
miles  to  school.  When  eleven  he 
was  water  boy  on  a  railroad  con- 
struction gang.  At  thirteen  he  was 
doing  a  man's  job  driving  teams. 
The  habit  of  long  days  of  toil  ac- 
quired in  his  youth  carried  through- 
out his  life  as  student,  Ph.  D.,  uni- 
versity dean,  commissioner  of  edu- 
cation, mission  president,  and  apos- 
tle of  the  Lord. 

The  first  child  of  a  pioneer  moth- 
er and  a  distinguished  father,  twen- 
ty years  older,  he  ever  acknowledged 
the  blessings  of  coming  from  "a 
good  Latter-day  Saint  home."  Here 


he  partook  of  a  spirit  of  unity,  love, 
and  filial  affection  that  formed  a 
pattern  for  his  own  home  with 
seven  children. 

As  a  boy  in  his  home  he  learned 
well  the  lessons  of  industry,  fru- 
gality, honesty,  service,  generosity, 
and  faith  in  God  and  his  purposes. 
A  great  advocate  of  secret  and  fam- 
ily prayer,  he  pointed  with  pride  to 
his  boyhood  home  where  some- 
times his  father  was  too  busy  to 
eat  his  breakfast,  but  always  had 
time  for  family  devotion. 

His  insatiable  desire  for  knowl- 
edge was  in  evidence  when  a  child 
as  he  read  aloud  by  candlelight  from 

Page  217 



The  Book  of  Mormon  while  his 
mother  performed  the  numerous 
household  duties.  In  his  love  for 
truth  he  never  temporized.  This 
love  for  learning  took  him  to  four 
eastern  universities  for  advanced 
work.  His  love  of  knowledge  was 
a  vital  part  of  his  very  being,  not 
only  during  the  thirty-five  years  as 
a  member  of  the  faculty  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Utah,  but  every  day  of  his 
long,  progressive,  and  useful  life. 
His  family  of  children,  all  of  whom 
have  caught  of  this  spirit,  have  all 
earned  one  or  more  college  degrees. 

Brother  Merrill  enjoyed  athletic 
sports,  but  fought  unflinchingly 
against  gambling,  liquor,  tobacco, 
and  other  destructive  vices.  He  was 
bold  in  denouncing  evil  and  im- 
patient with  cheaters,  spendthrifts, 
and  the  shiftless  and  idle. 

He  lived  simply  with  no  ostenta- 
tion in  home,  food,  or  clothing.  He 
persistently  taught  and  practiced 
the  basic  principles  of  good  health. 
It  is  said  he  never  missed  a  day  from 
the  office  because  of  illness.  Frugal 
in  his  personal  requirements  and 
ever  guarding  Church  funds,  he  gave 
generously  of  his  means  to  loved 
ones,  the  Church,  and  to  those  in 
need.  The  latest  evidence  of  this 
strong  trait  came  as  hundreds  of  his 
friends  sat  in  the  Benson  Stake 
Tabernacle  and  received  the  sad 
news  of  his  passing.  There  in  the 
community  of  his  birth,  during  the 
afternoon  session  of  conference,  as 
tribute  was  paid  their  beloved  fel- 

low-townsman and  leader,  evidence 
of  his  generosity  was  pointed  to  in 
the  improved  tabernacle  in  which 
we  were  meeting. 

TN  him  there  was  no  personal  van- 
ity. He  loved  the  simple  prac- 
tical phases  of  the  gospel.  In  his 
good-natured  way,  he  would  coun- 
sel the  saints  to  "leave  the  mys- 
teries alone."  He  loved  life  and  be- 
lieved "it  is  every  man's  duty  to  live 
as  long  as  he  can." .  Always  opti- 
mistic and  hopeful,  he  met  every 
sorrow  and  disappointment  uncom- 
plainingly with  buoyant  recovery. 
He  lived  so  that  he  had  no  fear  of 
death.  He  was  always  prepared. 
His  desire  to  die  "in  the  harness" 
was  granted  after  eighty-three  years 
of  fruitful  activity  and  devotion. 

It  is  with  gratitude  that  we  pay 
tribute  to  a  great  soul.  His  example 
has  been  an  inspiration  to  young 
and  old.  He  loved  life  and  lived  it 
richly.  His  greatest  joy  came  not 
from  college  degrees  or  thirty  years' 
listing  in  Who's  Who  in  America, 
but  in  serving  his  fellow  men  by 
bearing  testimony  and  presenting 
objective  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  our  Heavenly  Father,  the  reality 
of  the  divine  mission  of  the  Lord 
and  the  fact  that  Joseph  Smith  is 
a  prophet  of  God. 

Truly  it  can  be  said  of  him,  he 
fought  the  good  fight,  he  finished 
his  course,  he  kept  the  faith.  His 
reward  is  sure.  God  bless  his  mem- 

The  Long  Day 

Maryhale  WooJsey 

WORRY  about  that  day  happened  to  Jackie,  or  to  Baby- 
seemed  to  have  been  in  Sister-Celia?  What  if  she  shouldn't 
Edie's  heart  even  before  ever  see  them  again?  .  .  .  She  spoke 
she  was  awake.  She  felt  it  with  her  to  herself  sharply,  as  Mama  often 
first  drowsy  stirring,  when  morning  did  to  Louise,  "You'll  make  your- 
was  a  soft  grayness  at  the  windows,  self  sick,  child!  These  fears  you 
where  the  white  lace  curtains  suffer  are  just  idle  worrying.  And 
swayed  like  dim  ghosts.  worrying  never  helps!" 

Coming  awake  in  the  strange  bed,  A  sunbeam  darted  in  and  crossed 

her  outflung  arm   touched   Vi'let-  the  room,  dancing  on  the  farther 

Doll's    cold    china    face    and    her  wall.     Edie   heard    the   household 

scratchy  wool  hair.   Edie  gathered  coming  awake  .   .   .  good-morning 

the  doll  swiftly  close  to  her,  and  voices,  footsteps,  the  kitchen-stove 

cautiously  untightened  her  eyes  ....  noises  —  grate     shaken,     dampers 

Then  she  remembered.  She  was  turned.     And  presently  the  guest 

in  Auntie  Page's  guest  room,  in  the  room  door  opened  carefully  to  let 

wonderful  bed  with  the  high,  soft  Auntie  Page's  head  through— white 

feather  tick  and  fringed  spread,  with  hair  smooth  and  shining  above  the 

the  furry  white  bearskin  rug  on  the  silver-rimmed    spectacles,    and    the 

floor  to  step  one's  toes  into.    She  pleasant  smile, 

was  a   guest.     Auntie  and   Uncle  "Well,     well!     Awake     already? 

Page's  guest.     Yesterday  morning,  Good  morning,  dearie.    How's  our 

being  a  guest  had  been  important  little  guest  this  morning?" 

and  exciting.     But  yesterday  noth-  "I'm     very    well,     thank     you," 

ing    had    seemed    wrong.      Yester-  Edie     answered     politely.     "Good 

day  she  had  not  wakened  with  this  morning,  Auntie  Page."  She  began 

queer  unhappiness  inside  her,  the  to  climb  out  of  bed. 

tightness    in    her    stomach,     this  For  a  while  after  that,  the  dis- 

huitingness  in  her  heart.  turbing    worry    was    busied    away, 

She  couldn't  understand  it.     It  though    the    breakfast-table    atten- 

was  like  being  afraid— only   there  tions   from    Uncle   Page   and    the 

wasn't   anything   to   be   afraid   of.  hired  men  and  Hilda  didn't  seem 

Unless  .  .  .  unless  maybe  she  was  so  happy  as  they  had  been  yester- 

like    Louise,    Mama's    hired    girl:  day,  and  the  berries  and  ham-and- 

"...  sufferin'  with  fears,  Miz  Rand-  eggs    didn't    taste    so    good,    and 

all.  Something  sure  wrong.  .  .  ."  Auntie  Page's  shiningness  seemed  a 

Sometimes,  something  was  wrong,  little  less  shining. 

Once   a    letter   had    come,    saying  After  breakfast  Edie  took  Vi'let- 

Louise's  mother  had  been  sick;  and  Doll  and  went  outdoors.  But  yes- 

once,  her  cousin's  baby  had  died.  terday's  fun  was  not  fun  this  morn- 

Edie  shuddered.    What  if  Mama  ing,  not  even  chasing  Solomon,  the 

had  got  sick?    Or  if  something  had  big    yellow    tomcat    who    reigned 

Page  219 



proudly  in  the  back  yard  and  orch- 
ard. This  morning,  Solomon 
stared  at  Edie  a  long  moment  and 
stalked  away,  and  she  felt  snubbed 
and  lonely;  the  queer  unhappiness 
worried  up  again  in  her  insides.  She 
wandered  around  the  big  house  to 
sit  on  the  front  porch  steps  and 
think  about  it.  Remembering  .... 

T-JOW  long  ago  it  seemed!  It  had 
been  Tuesday,  then.  She  re- 
membered Mama  sitting  in  the  low 
rocker  holding  Baby-Sister-Celia, 
while  Auntie  Page  sat  opposite  in  a 
straight-up  chair,  her  gray  silk  dress 
glistening,  her  needle  flashing  in 
and  out  of  the  tight  cloth  in  her 
embroidery  hoops. 

"Would  you  like  to  go  to  Auntie 
Page's  house  today?"  Mama  asked. 
'To  stay  till  Friday,  maybe?  We've 
promised  her  you'd  make  her  a 
special  visit  sometime.  And  you're 
quite  a  big  girl  now— five  years  old!" 

Edie  clasped  her  hands  behind 
her  back  and  stood  gravely  consider- 
ing and  looking  at  Auntie  Page's 
kind  eyes  behind  the  silver-rimmed 
spectacles.  She  thought  of  all  the 
things  she  liked  to  do  at  Auntie 
Page's  house:  look  at  the  whatnot's 
polished  seashells  and  china  ladies 
and  tiny  gilded  slippers  and  bask- 
ets; the  big  red  plush  album  filled 
with  relatives'  pictures;  the  wax 
roses  and  lilies  under  a  shining  glass 
bell.  Play  with  Solomon  the  tom- 
cat, and  listen  to  Hilda- the-hired- 
woman  sing  sad  songs  in  a  high, 
trilly  voice.  There  had  been  many 
visits  but  never  time  for  all  the  look- 
ing and  doing  Edie  wanted.  Now 
she  was  five  years  old— June  second, 
over  two  weeks  ago!— and  she  could, 
if  she  would  like,  go  with  Auntie 

Page  and  stay  till  Friday.  All  by 
herself.  Edie's  insides  began  to 
wiggle  excitedly. 

"Will  there  be  time  to  look  at 
all  the  pretties?"  she  asked  breath- 

"Oh,  yes,  dearie,"  Auntie  Page 
said  quickly.  "All  you  want  to. 
Every  day,  if  you  wish." 

"I  do  wish."  Edie  nodded  her 
head  vigorously.  She  saw  Mama 
and  Auntie  Page  smiling  funny, 
secret  smiles  at  each  other  above 
Baby-Sister-Celia's  fuzzy  head.  "Yes, 
Mama,  I— I  would  like." 

Then  Mama  had  Louise  bring 
Papa's  brown  satchel  and  set  it  on 
the  floor.  Its  top  stood  open,  a 
wide  squarish  mouth,  to  swallow 
Edie's  things  which  Louise  brought: 
the  rosebud  nightgown  with  blue 
feather-stitched  ruffles,  the  blue- 
and-white  checked  dress  and  the 
next-to-best  white  dimity  dress,  and 
two  pinafores,  and  a  muslin  petti- 
coat, and  panties  and  stockings  and 
Edie's  hairbrush  and  comb  and 
some  fresh  ribbons.  One  by  one 
the  satchel  swallowed  them  down 
just  as  it  swallowed  Papa's  things 
when  he  was  going  on  a  journey. 
Edie  stood  watching,  feeling  big- 
ness grow  inside  her.  She  wondered 
if  going-visitings  were  as  important 
as  journeys  .... 

".  .  .  And  be  a  good  girl,  and  re- 
member your  manners,  dear," 
Mama  whispered,  kissing  her  good- 
bye. And  Jackie  said,  "A-bye, 
Edie!"  and  ran  away  to  chase  Tub- 
by-Pup. Louise  stood  by  the  door 
waving  her  hand  to  Edie  when  she 
had  climbed  carefully  up  into 
Auntie  Page's  gleaming  black  bug- 
gy, with  bright-yellow  wheels,  be- 



hind     Auntie     Page's     special-own 
sleek  black  horse. 

All  down  the  clover-bordered  lane 
and  across  the  river  bridge  and 
around  the  cliff-topped  hill,  Auntie 
Page  let  Edie  hold  the  long,  thin 
shiny  black  whip.  Once  she  let  her 
flick  it  gently  against  the  horse's 
flank;  then  he  sprang  ahead  so  sud- 
denly that  Edie  tipped  over  against 
the  back  cushion  of  the  seat,  laugh- 
ing excitedly  at  the  fence  posts 
whizzing  by  so  fast.  The  sky  was 
bright  blue,  with  clouds  piled  fluf- 
fily  as  egg  whites  fixed  for  lemon 
pie.  Auntie  Page's  big,  gray  stone 
house  gleamed  in  the  sunshine, 
growing  nearer  and  bigger  as  the 
black  buggy  whirled  along  the  road, 
past  the  green  fields  which  smelled 
of  new  hay,  the  orchards  which 
smelled  of  ripening  June  apples  and 
red  cherries,  and  the  pastures  which 
smelled  of  cows. 

j  TNCLE  Page,  when  he  came  in 
from  the  hayfields,  had  acted 
greatly  surprised  to  see  Edie.  He 
had  said,  "Well,  for  goodness' 
sakes!  Where'd  this  pretty  little 
girl  come  from,  Auntie  Page?" 
Twinkles  in  his  blue  eyes,  his  gray 
mustache  quirking  a  little. 

"I  came  from  my  house.  To 
visit  Auntie  Page,"  Edie  said. 

"Well,  well!  And  Uncle  Page, 
too?  I  declare,  that's  just  what  we 
need— a  little  girl  in  this  house." 

"Five  years  old?"  Edie  asked. 
Being  five  seemed  especially  im- 

Uncle  Page  thought  it  over  and 
said  solemnly,  "I  think  so.  I  'spect 
five  years  old  would  be  just  about 
exactly  right.  And  named  Edith— 
Edie  for  a  pet  name."  He  found  a 

great  big  book  and  put  it  on  a 
chair  to  make  a  high  seat  for  Edie 
at  the  table. 

Supper,  that  first  night,  was  won- 
derful. Hilda  had  made  strawberry 
shortcake  especially  because  of 
Edie.  Hired-man  Mister  Dan 
greeted  her  with,  "Hello-o  there!  If 
it  isn't  my  little  sweetheart!" 

The  other  hired  man,  whom  Edie 
had  not  seen  before,  said,  "Gosh 
sakes!  We've  got  a  little  lady  with 

"This  is  our  little  guest,"  Auntie 
Page  explained.  "Edie,  this  is  Mis- 
ter Fred." 

Mister  Fred  smiled  at  Edie  all 
over  his  round,  sun-browned  face. 
Mister  Dan  glared  at  him  fiercely 
and  said,  "Hey,  you  Fred.  Behave 
yourself,  now.     Edie's  my  girl." 

Hilda  said,  "You  boys  both  be- 
have yourselves.  Quit  annoying 

Edie,  listening  and  smiling  po- 
litely, was  thinking  back  in  her 
mind:  Guest  .  .  .  guest.  Being  a 
guest  sounded,  much  more  im- 
portant than  just  visiting.  It  sound- 
ed wonderful. 

The  hours  flying.  Bedtime  .  .  . 
Auntie  Page  helping  her  into  her 
pretty  nightie,  helping  her  into  the 
big  guest-bed.  The  feather  tick 
cushioned  around  her,  shutting  her 
into  soft  darkness.  Morning  .  .  . 
waking  to  the  magic  of  the  white 
room,  the  deep,  soft  bed,  and  a 
whole  new  day  full  of  wonders  and 
fun.  Another  bedtime— and  sud- 
denly thinking  of  Mama  and  Papa, 
Jackie  and  Louise  and  Baby-Sister- 
Celia.  Lying  awake,  wondering  if 
they  were  getting  on  all  right  with- 
out her. 


DEMEMBERING,      Edie      just  know  many  secrets!)  ...  and  why 

couldn't  figure  out  where  the  Auntie  Page's  smile  had  been  wor- 

wrongness    began.     It    must    have  ned,   when    Edie   brought   in   the 

crept  over  the  world  in  the  night—  r°ses.    She  had  known  the  some- 

that  second  night,  while  everyone  thing.  .  .  . 
slept.  Edie   stood   still,    there  by   the 

Because  nothing  was  right,  this  nouse  wall,  shocked  and  tense,  un- 

morning.   Solomon  wouldn't  romp.  til  Auntie  Page  came  looking  for 

Vi'let-Doll  didn't  care  about  any-  her. 

thing.  The  whatnot  figures  had  "Didn't  you  hear  me  call  you, 
somehow  faded.  The  kitchen  food  dearie?"  And  anxiously,  "You  are 
smells  made  a  queer  sick  feeling  in  all  right,  aren't  you,  Edie?" 
Edie's  stomach.  Cutting  roses  for  "I  think  I  .  .  .  don't  want  any 
Auntie  Page  wasn't  fun  like  yester-  dinner,  Auntie  Page." 
day;  the  garden  perfumes  were  un-  "Oh,  my  goodness!  But  of  course 
sweet,  the  sun  was  too  hot  on  her  you  do.  All  little  girls  want  din- 
head.  Out  across  the  green  fields,  ners."  Cheerfully  Auntie  Page  took 
heat  waves  were  quivering;  their  Edie's  hand  and  led  her  around  to 
silvery  mist  jiggled  the  river  and  the  back  porch, 
trees  and  the  hills  which  hid  Papa's  There  by  the  kitchen  door,  at  the 
and  Mama's  house.  Edie  wandered  washstand,  with  its  white  basin  and 
miserably  about,  keeping  close  to  pitcher,  its  splasher  with  a  long- 
the  house.  Space  had  become  legged  pink  bird  among  willows, 
changed,  fearsome.  The  orchard,  Edie  stopped  to  wash  her  face  and 
yesterday  so  near  and  so  nice,  to-  hands.  The  pink  bird's  one  eye 
day  seemed  far  away  and  frighten-  leered  at  her  scornfully,  without 
ing.  friendliness.    When   she  went   in- 

It  was  when  Auntie  Page  called  side,  she  felt  a  queer  tension  filling 
her  to  come  in  to  dinner,  that  Edie  the  kitchen.  Everyone  looked  quick- 
suddenly  guessed  the  meaning  of  it  ly  at  her  and  began  talking  in  cheer- 
all.   Dinner?   Why,  it  ought  to  be  ful  tones  just  like  Auntie  Page's, 
suppertime  by  now!    Unbelieving, 

she  looked  up  at  the  sky  .  .  .  and  p*DIE  knew  very  well  what  that 

there  was  the  sun,  all  right,  fiery-  "  meant.    It  was  like  the  time  it 

blazing,  high  up.  .  .  .  rained  so  hard,  when  Papa  was  away. 

Something  had  happened  to  time!  It  rained  and  rained  until  the  river 

That  was  it.  No  morning  in  all  the  came  up  out  of  its  bed,  spread  over 

world  could  be  this  long.  It  couldn't  the  fields  and  came  close  to  the 

be  right.  Something  had  happened  house;  and  Mama  and  Louise  had 

to  time!  queer,  heavy  looks   in   their  eyes, 

That  explained  it  all— why  it  and  had  gone  around  talking  con- 
seemed  such  ages  and  ages  since  stantly  in  that  too-cheerful  way.  Pre- 
she  said  goodbye  to  Mama  and  tending  they  weren't  scared  .  .  .  pre- 
Jackie  and  Louise;  why  Solomon  tending  things  were  all  right.  .  .  . 
and  Vi'let-Doll  had  not  cared  to  Just  like  these  grown-ups  in 
play  .  .  .  (cats  are  so  wise,  and  doll§  Auntie  Page's  kitchen,  now.    They 

THE  LONG  DAY  223 

knew  something  was  wrong;  their  please— can    I?"    And    her    mouth 

knowing  was  in  the  glances  which  screwed   up   all   crookedly   as   she 

tried  to  hide  their  worry;  knowing  tried   to   explain:   "I   need   to   see 

was  in  their  voices,  too  bright,  too  my  Mama." 

hearty.   They  knew  something  was  Auntie  Page  lifted  her  up  and 

wrong— without      knowing      what  held   her  tight  against  her  white 

would  happen  next!  Their  knowing  waist;    its    crisp    ruffles    scratched 

and     their     uncertainty     crowded  Edie's  cheek,  but  she  didn't  care, 

around  Edie  like  a  thick,  silent  cur-  Her  arms  went  tight  around  Auntie 

tain.  Page's  neck. 

Presently  Edie  couldn't  stand  it  "I   thought  so,   dearie.    I   guess 

any  more.  Tears  swimming  up  back  two  whole  days  is  a  long  time  for  a 

of  her  eyelids,  she  put  her  spoon  little   girl    to   be   away   from   her 

down  and  said,  "I  ...  I  just  can't,  Mama,  the  first  time,"  Auntie  Page 

Auntie  Page."  was  saying  gently. 

Amid  complete  stillness  Auntie 

Page  helped  her  off  the  great,  big  HPHE  ache  in  Edie's  heart  lessened 

book,   gently   down    to   the   floor.  as  she  watched  Auntie  Page  put 

"Maybe  we'd  better  have  a   rest,  all  the  things  back  into  the  satchel, 

shall  we,  dearie?"  Auntie  Page's  smile  looked  queerly 

The  guest  room,  with  green  twisted;  her  spectacles  had  little 
blinds  pulled  down,  was  dim  and  gray  clouds  in  their  middles, 
cool  and  quiet;  but  it  was  a  quiet-  A  long,  long  time  later  the  shiny 
ness  which  roared  inside  Edie's  ears  black  buggy  turned  into  the  lane 
so  sleep  could  not  come.  She  between  the  rows  of  clover,  near 
wished  she  could  hear  Mama  talking  the  brown  house.  Edie  saw  Louise 
to  her,  or  Jackie  shouting  at  play,  come  out  of  the  door,  stand  a  min- 
or Baby-Sister-Celia  cooing,  or  even  ute  and  disappear.  Then  Mama 
crying.  Time  had  become  so  long,  came  hurrying  out,  looked,  and 
so  awfully  long!  Maybe  today  was  started  running  down  to  the  gate, 
never  going  to  end  at  all!  Maybe  Mama  looked  scared,  for  sure! 
there  would  never  be  a  Friday  to  "Now,  now,  Bessie!  Nothing's 
go  home  to  Mama.  .  .  .  wrong,    nothing    at    all!"    Auntie 

She  stayed  on  the  bed,  her  body  Page  called  out  in  that  extra-cheer- 
stiff,  her  eyes  wide,  until  Auntie  ful  way.  And  as  soon  as  they  were 
Page  came  back.  While  Edie  started  together,  there  at  the  gate,  she  be- 
putting  on  her  shoes,  Auntie  Page  gan  talking  in  letters— spelling  some- 
sat  looking  on.  Auntie  Page  looked  thing  she  didn't  want  Edie  to  know, 
sad,  Edie  thought.  "Just  h-o-m-e-s-i-c-k,  Bessie.  That's 

"Would  you  like  to  go  home  now,  all." 

Edie?"  For  once,  Edie  didn't  care.  She 

Edie  was  so  surprised  she  jerked  was  too  happy,  being  hugged  so  by 

her  shoelace  clear  away  from  the  Mama. 

hole  it  almost  had  gone  through.  After  a  few  minutes,  Auntie  Page 

She  looked  up,  feeling  her  face  grow  was  saying,  "No,  thank  you,  Bessie; 

warm  and  alive.     "Oh,  yes!     Oh,  I'd  better  start  right  back.  It'll  soon 



be  suppertime.  I  should  have  started 
earlier,  but  .  .  .  well,  until  I'd  seen 
her  after  she  rested,  I  really  hoped 
to  keep  her  till  tomorrow  at  least. 
We  loved  having  her.  Next  time 
will  be  easier,  of  course— you'll  come 
and  visit  us  again  soon,  won't  you, 

Edie  nodded,  suddenly  remem- 
bering all  the  times  Auntie  Page  had 
wished  for  "a  little  girl  like  you, 
dearie"  .  .  .  and  understanding  dimly 
how  Auntie  Page  needed  to  borrow 
her,  to  make  the  big  stone  house 
less  lonely.  Thinking  of  this,  Edie 
nodded  again,  faster  and  harder, 
and  said,  "Oh,  yes!  Can— may  I, 

"Little  precious!"  Auntie  Page 
said,  and  kissed  her.  Then  she  got 
up  into  the  buggy  again,  and  turned 
it  around  and  drove  away  down  the 

Louise  was  scraping  new  potatoes 
in  the  kitchen.  She  said,  "Hello, 
there.  Didja  have  a  nice  visit?" 
And  before  Edie  could  answer,  she 
added,  "Run  along  now,  chick. 
Out  from  underfoot  while  I'm 

It  seemed  as  if  Edie  had  never 
been  away! 

She  went  out  in  back,  still  won- 
dering. Everything  had  been  so 
wrong— but  now  everything  was  just 
like  before.  But  there  was,  still, 
something  she  couldn't  understand. 

All  at  once  Jackie  was  running 
from  under  the  lilac  bush,  running 
as  fast  as  his  chubby  legs  could 

"Where  was  you?"  he  demanded. 
"I  looked  an'  looked  an'  you  wasn't 

Edie  felt  suddenly  tall  and  wise. 
She  swished  her  skirts  importantly 

as  she  told  him,  "Why,  didn't  you 
know?  I  was— away.  I  was  being 
a  guest." 

He  looked  at  her  with  emptiness 
in  his  eyes.  He  was  too  little  to 
understand  about  being  a  guest, 
she  thought.  .  .  .  Just  as  she  was  too 
little,  she  supposed,  to  understand 
about  what  had  happened  to  time, 
today.  Whatever  it  was,  it  must 
be  all  fixed  up,  now.  But  if  she 
could  only  understand^  she  could 
be  sure  .  .  .  she  could  stop  worrying 
about  it. 

Long  after  sleep  time  came  in  the 
cozy  bedroom  where  Jackie  already 
slumbered  in  his  crib,  Edie  lay  in 
her  bed,  puzzling.  In  the  sitting 
room,  Mama  was  singing  softly  as 
she  tended  Baby-Sister-Celia;  her 
voice  floated  soothingly  into  Edie's 
thoughts.  The  door  was  partly  open, 
and  through  its  narrow  space  Edie 
could  see  Papa  sitting  at  his  desk, 
getting  ready  to  write  a  letter. 

"Bessie,"  he  said  suddenly  and 
surprisedly  loud,  "do  you  know 
what  date  this  is?" 

A  pause,  and  Mama  answered, 
"June  twenty-first,  dear." 

"Uh-huh!  Know  what  that  means? 
The  longest  day  of  the  year,  honey." 

"Why,  it  is,  isn't  it!"  Mama  said, 
surprised,  too.  "I  hadn't  thought 
a  thing  about  it.  Well,  my  good- 
ness.  The  longest  day." 

Edie  tensed,  caught  her  breath. 
So  that  was  it!  She  snuggled  into 
her  pillow,  and  swift,  glad  comfort 
eased  through  her.  She  hadn't  been 
mistaken,  and  she  was  big  enough 
to  understand  it.  It  wasn't  that 
something  was  wrong!  It  had  been 
simply  and  really,  the  longest  day 
of  the  year. 

The  Family  Hour 

Alberta  O.  and  Roy  W.  Doxey* 

4  L~\  J" OTHER,   when   are   we  away    several    years    ago,    but    the 
VI    going    to    have   Family  knowledge   and   memory   of   them 
Hour?"  is  not  an  infre-  are  kept  alive  through  this  medium, 
quent   question   from   one   of  our  For  the  children  to  see  their  grand- 
four  children.     This  query  comes  fathers    "alive/'    walking    and    as- 
from    Cheryl,    the    youngest,    age  sociating  with   their  grandmothers 
three,  to  Douglas,  our  oldest  child,  and  other  living  members  of  the 
who  is  about  to  receive  the  Aaronic  family,  is  a  great  blessing.     It  is 
Priesthood   upon   graduation   from  hoped  that  by  this  means  the  Lat- 
the  Primary.  We  have  felt  that  the  ter-day  Saint  idea  of  love  of  family 
Family  Hour  makes  a  contribution,  heritage  under  the  patriarchal  order 
among  many  other  very  worthwhile  may  be  fostered.  We  also  found 
values    to    such    important    events  that   during   the   fifteen   years   we 
and  as  a  preparation  for  baptism  lived  in  the  East  away  from  our 
for  the  other  children.  relatives,   movies   showing  cousins, 
There  are  some  practices  we  ob-  aunts,  uncles,  and  others  were  the 
serve  which  appear  to  be  of  more  best  means  of  keeping  before  the 
than  usual  interest  to  all  members  children  these  family  relationships, 
of  the  family,  and  we  believe  the  Since  we  have  recorded  the  life  of 
variety   of   the   programs   accounts  each  chlld  m  colored  movies  from 
for   the   children   looking   forward  the  time  each  was  three  weeks  old, 
to  them  with  anticipation.  all  have  the  delight  of  seeing  them- 
We  have  the  children  indicate  selves  as  infants,  of  watching  birth- 
their  preference  for  the  particular  days,  Christmases,  and  all  the  won- 
program  to  be  presented.  Although  derful    well-remembered    days    of 
this  is  the  ruling  principle  in  our  childhood  pass  in  review.  Kimball, 
practice,  guidance  in  the  form  of  age  S1X>  never  tires  of  seeing  him- 
suggestions  from  the  parents  pre-  self   as   a    two-year-old   with    long 
serves  variety  and  what  we  consider  curls>  and  being  shorn  of  them  in 
a  proper  balance  between  the  sec-  the  barbers  chair, 
ular  and  the  spiritual.     We  have  Then,   too,   movies   of  Douglas' 
felt  that,  in  the  main,  there  should  baptism  in  the  Susquehanna  River 
be  a  religious  objective  in   every-  at  the  approximate  point  where  Jo- 
thing  that  is  done,  although  the  seph   Smith   and   Oliver   Cowdery 
most  popular  single  feature  of  the  baptized  each  other  under  the  di- 
Family  Hour   is   the   showing    of  rection  of  John  the  Baptist,  serve 
home  movies,  a  hobby  in  the  family  to  re-emphasize  this  ordinance  and 
for  over  ten  years  through  which  we  provide   an    opportunity   to    teach 
are  accomplishing  a  principal  ob-  the    other    children    the    meaning 
jective.    The  maternal  and  paternal  and  purpose  of  baptism  to  which 
grandfathers  of  the  children  passed  ordinance  Clarke  Benson,  age  sev- 

•Elder  Doxey,  former  president,  Eastern  States  Mission,  is  now  Professor  of  Church  Administra- 
tion and  Organization  at  Brigham  Young  University,  Provo,  Utah. 

Page  225 



en,  is  now  looking  forward.  An  im- 
pressive event  occurred  as  we  were 
leaving  the  bank  of  the  river  fol- 
lowing the  baptism.  The  sun  had 
not  shone  all  day;  the  sky  was  dark 
and  cloudy.  But  just  as  we  were 
leaving  the  bank  of  the  river  fol- 
lowing the  baptism,  we  looked  back 
upon  the  scene  and  saw  that  the 
sun  had  broken  through  the  over- 
cast, and  was  shining  down  in  a 
circle  upon  the  spot  where  Doug- 
las had  been  baptized.  It  seemed 
to  us  as  though  heaven  had 
acknowledged  the  event  which  had 
just  taken  place. 

Birthday  anniversaries  of  the  chil- 
dren are  always  observed  in  our 
home  with  the  traditional  home- 
baked  cake  carrying  the  appropriate 
number  of  candles.  To  preserve 
the  memory  of  the  event  and,  above 
all,  the  memory  of  their  little 
friends  who  attend  the  party,  mov- 
ies record  the  traditional  blowing 
out  of  the  candles  and  related  ac- 
tivities. Each  child  always  appears 
interested  in  seeing  his  birthday 
party,  the  Christmases,  and  other 
special  events  in  his  life,  and  to 
recall  friends,  some  of  whom  have 
not  been  seen  for  years.  Especially 
is  this  true  of  Douglas*  Eastern 

A  comedy  or  cartoon  livens  up 
our  movie  programs.  Cowboy  mov- 
ies and  pictures  of  the  army  and 
navy  in  commercially  produced 
movies  of  news  events  during  World 
War  II  years,  are  rated  high  in 
interest  and  serve  to  maintain  in- 
terest in  other  offerings  which  have 
higher  objectives. 

HPHE    phonograph    also    has    its 
place  in  our  Family  Hour.  Chil- 
dren's stories  and  songs  make  a  hit. 

This  is  another  effective  means  of 
teaching  gospel  lessons  through 
Bible  stories.  The  current  series  of 
Bible  stories  on  phonograph  records 
received  through  The  Deseiet 
News  serve  very  well  in  this  con- 
nection. Some  semi-classical  and 
classical  numbers  also  find  their 
place  in  our  programs  when  records 
are  enjoyed. 

Among  the  family  hours  most 
treasured  are  those  spent  with  the 
grandmothers.  Here  eighty-year-old 
Grandmother  Doxey  tells  how, 
when  she  was  very  young,  she  was 
taken  to  Salt  Lake  City  to  attend 
a  conference  session.  There,  with 
her  mother,  she  listened  to  President 
Brigham  Young.  Other  stories 
about  great-grandmother  and  great- 
grandfather crossing  the  plains  as 
pioneers  find  interested  listeners 
each  time  they  are  told. 

Equally  interesting  are  the  hours 
spent  with  seventy-seven-year-old 
Grandmother  Opheikens,  when, 
with  the  children  seated  all  about 
her  on  the  living  room  floor,  she 
relates  the  wonderful  experiences 
of  her  childhood  among  the  wind- 
mills and  canals  of  Holland.  Always 
there  follows  the  wondrous  story 
of  her  conversion  to  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  the  marvelous 
blessings  that  come  from  being  a 
good  Latter-day  Saint. 

The  old  true  and  tried  method 
of  teaching  stories  from  the  Book 
of  Mormon  and  the  Bible  by  tell- 
ing the  stories  is  used  also.  For  a 
family  with  the  age  range  of  ours, 
we  have  found  that  the  use  of  pic- 
tures, cut-outs,  and  other  illustrative 
material,  is  most  effective.  Rainy 
Sunday  afternoons  are  used  to 
gather    the    children    around    the 



table,  there  to  color  the  cut-outs  or 
pictographs  from  the  Our  Promised 
Land  series.  As  stories  of  The  Book 
of  Mormon  are  told,  the  characters 
of  the  book  come  to  life  on  a  large 
flannel  board.  Inasmuch  as  our 
Family  Hours  have  the  principal 
objective  of  making  Latter-day 
Saints  of  our  children,  we  try  to 
bring  into  these  hours  those  ac- 
tivities which  build  desires  to  ac- 
complish Latter-day  Saint  objec- 
tives. We  have  therefore  taken 
occasion  to  tell  missionary  stories 
in  the  hope  that  the  missionary 
desire  will  be  engendered.  The 
home  movies  assist  here  also  be- 
cause of  our  many  pictures  of  mis- 
sionaries and  of  some  of  the  Gen- 
eral   Authorities    who    toured    the 

Eastern    States    Mission    with    us 
while  we  were  there. 

Individual  participation  sometime 
during  each  program  is  a  "must," 
even  though  there  may  be  some 
repetition.  Recitations  learned  in 
school,  Sunday  School,  Primary,  or 
taught  at  home,  with  songs  from 
various  members  of  the  family,  give 
development.  Douglas  is  learning 
to  play  the  violin,  so  his  contribu- 
tion helps  this  phase  of  the  hour, 
while  Clarke  and  Kimball  con- 
tribute vocal  duets.  At  one  time, 
when  the  children  were  called  up- 
on to  give  the  names  of  the  first 
few  books  of  The  Book  of  Mormon, 
Clarke's  excited  reply  evoked  some 
laughter  when  he  said:  "I  know! 
I  know!  First  Nephi,  Second  Nephi, 

Willard  Luce 


Elder  Roy  W.  Doxey,  his  wife,  Alberta  O.  Doxey,  and  their  children    (left  to 
right) :  Douglas,  Cheryl,  Kimball,  and  Clarke  Benson. 



Willard  Luce 

The  Doxey  children,  left  to  right:  Douglas,  Clarke  Benson,  Cheryl,  and  Kimball 

Third  Nephi,  and  Baptism  by 

"Freshments"— as  the  little  ones 
call  them— are  a  very  important 
part  of  the  Family  Hour.  These  may 
consist  of  dinner  dessert  held  over, 
or,  if  mother  has  had  a  very  busy 
day— a  box  of  raisins  or  nuts  serves 
the  purpose.  Homemade  candy, 
popcorn,  or  cookies  are  delicacies 
always  welcomed.  Popcorn  balls  and 
apples  are  never  failing  favorites 
with  the  children. 

The  Family  Hour  in  summertime 
calls  for  outdoor  activities.  They 
take  the  form  of  short  trips  to  near- 
by points  of  historical  interest,  pic- 
nics in  the  city  parks,  beautiful 
scenic  drives  in  the  mountains,  and 
swimming  parties.  Church  history, 
songs,  and  rounds  are  learned,  and 
each  child  has  opportunity  to  recite 

favorite  verses  as  we  drive  along. 
Canyon  picnics  have  given  our 
scout-age  son  a  chance  to  demon- 
strate his  recently-acquired  knowl- 
elge  of  scout  lore.  New  games  are 

One  Family  Hour,  still  in  the 
planning  stage,  is  even  now  antici- 
pated. Our  plans  are  to  start  out 
very  early  some  lovely  spring  morn- 
ing for  the  'This  Is  the  Place  Monu- 
ment/' Here  each  child  old 
enough  will  treat  some  phase  of  the 
pioneer  story.  Daddy  will  give 
an  especially  prepared  talk,  and 
then,  in  the  beautiful  early  morn- 
ing sunshine,  each  member  of  the 
family  will  have  opportunity  to  bear 
his  testimony,  down  to  three-year- 
old  Cheryl,  who  quite  often  says, 
"Let's     talk    about    the    gospel." 

(Continued  on  page  279) 

Father  Was  a  Good  Provider 

Inez  BagneJJ 

I  knew  the  groceries  had  arrived 
because  the  delivery  truck 
backed  out  of  the  driveway  just 
as  Mom  and  I  came  hurrying  up 
the  walk.  Mom  was  limping  a  little 
as  those  comfortable  shoes  Father 
had  bought  her  had  been  pinch- 
ing her  feet  all  afternoon  while  we 

"I'll  get  these  shoes  off,  and  we'll 
hurry  dinner,  Elizabeth/'  said  Mom. 
With  one  shoe  in  her  hand,  she 
stopped  at  the  kitchen  door. 

Father  was  already  home  from 
his  law  office  and  was  acting  queer. 
He  was  holding  a  bottle  of  large 
ripe  olives  up  in  front  of  him  and 
it  looked  like  those  olives  were  on 
trial  for  their  lives. 

"Olives!"  he  said,  "extra  large 
fancy  jumbo!  I  suppose  that  refers 
to  the  price." 

He  pawed  through  the  grocery 
box  and  came  up  with  both  hands 
full  of  canned  goods. 

"There  was  a  time  when  women 
were  ashamed  to  feed  their  families 
out  of  a  tin  can,"  he  said.  "I  can 
remember  back  when  paper  sacks 
and  tin  cans  were  considered  suf- 
ficient grounds  for  divorce.  What 
in  tarnation  is  gelatin?  And  nuts, 
dates,  vanilla,  whipping  cream! 
What  am  I  doing,  feeding  my  fam- 
ily or  running  a  French  pastry 

"I'm  having  some  of  the  ladies  in 
tomorrow,"  said  Mom. 

"You  mean  you  aren't  going  to 
make  me  another  date  cake?" 

Mom  laughed.  "Some  lawyer 
you  turned  out  to  be,  Roger,  dear. 

You  just  defeated  your  own  argu- 
ment. Case  dismissed.  The  de- 
fense is  going  to  rest.  And  I  do 
mean  rest!"  Mom  sank  into  a  chair 
and  pulled  off  her  other  shoe. 

"Hand  me  that  blue  can  of  stuff, 
Roger.  That's  one  thing  you  can't 
call  an  extravagance.  It's  a  can  of 
foot  balm  and  I'm  going  to  rub  it 
on  my  blisters." 

Father  had  picked  up  her  shoes 
and  was  holding  them  up  in  the  air 
admiring  them,  so  I  handed  her  the 
foot  balm.  "A  nice  looking  pair 
of  shoes,"  he  said,  "even  if  I  did 
pick  them  out  myself.  They  look 
sensible  and  comfortable,  like  shoes 
were  meant  to  look." 

"They  pinch,"  said  Mom. 

"Women  always  buy  such  silly 
shoes.  They  forget  that  funda- 
mentally shoes  were  intended  for 
walking,  so  they  go  hobbling  and 
teetering  all  over  the  streets.  There 
was  a  lady  in  the  shoe  store  with 
feet  about  the  same  size  as  yours, 
and  she  tried  them  on  for  me  and 
said  they  were  very  comfortable." 

"As  a  general  rule,  I  prefer  my 
shoes  bought  to  fit  my  own  feet," 
Mom  said  darkly. 

By  then  she  had  her  stockings 
off  and  Father  sucked  in  his  breath 
as  he  saw  the  big  red  blisters  on  her 
toes.  "Elizabeth,  get  the  iodine  and 
some  bandage,  quick!" 

Father  told  Mom  to  sit  and  rest, 
and  he  broiled  steaks  and  lectured 
her.  "I  tell  you,  Grace,  the  trouble 
with  the  world  today  is  too  many 
flummy-diddles,  too  much  folderol. 
Every  day   the   courts   are  full   of 

Page    229 



divorces,  and  do  you  know  what  the  river  to  put  in  the  freezer  and 

causes    them?"     He    waggled    his  turned  it  by  hand  for  hours?    Do 

finger  under  Mom's  nose.  "People  you?" 

are  helpless  and  extravagant.  They  Father    just    smiled,    and   Mom 

have  to  have  everything  done  for  jumped    up    and    started    on    the 

them!"  dishes. 

"Father  said  he'd  do  the  dishes, 

T-TE  grabbed  a  knife  and  started  to  remember?"  I  said. 

cut  himself  a  slice  of  the  big  "Elizabeth,   do   the  dishes,"   he 

chocolate  cake.  He  stopped  with  the  said.  "Your  mother's  tired." 

knife  in  midair.  "I  see  you  got  this  "Never   mind,"   said   Mom.   "It 

at  the  bakery.    Nowadays,  women  isn't  like  I  had  to  build  a  bonfire 

miss  all  the  thrill  of  cooking."  He  and  heat  water  from  the  creek  to 

started  to  cut  the  cake.  do  them.    All  I  have  to  do  is  put 

"Put  the  lid  back,"  said  Mom.  them  in   my  modern  labor-saving, 

"I'll  feed  it  to  the  birds."  thrill  -  killing,    divorce  -  provocating 

Father  hummed  as  he  cut  the  electric     dish     washer.     My,     I'm 

cake.    He  put  the  steak  on  a  plat-  almost  ashamed  to  be  getting  them 

ter,  added  a  can  of  mushrooms  and  done  so  easily." 

a  bottle  of  catsup.  He  opened  the  Father  went  in  the  front  room  to 

olives   and  helped  himself   to   six  read  the  paper, 

just  like  they  had  never  been  on  "Mom,"  I  said,  "are  we  awfully 

trial.  poor  or  is  Father  stingy?" 

"Grace,"  he  asked,  "did  I  ever  tell  "No,   Elizabeth,  your  Father  is 

you  about  when  our  family  used  to  very  generous.     It's   just  that  he 

live  on  the  ranch?    We  used  to  buy  gets  these  streaks  and  he  can't  for- 

everything  in  quantity.    We'd  only  get  that  they  did  things  differently 

go  to  the  store  about  once  a  month  on  the  ranch.    He  worries  about  all 

and  we  ate  like  kings  for  practically  the  trouble  he  sees  in  the  courts, 

nothing."  and  since  he  can't  do  much  about 

For  dessert  Mom  took  a  tray  of  the  whole  world,  he  starts  in  on  us 

pink  pistachio  nut  ice  cream  out  here  at  home." 

of  the  refrigerator.  When    we   went   in    the   living 

Father  had  eaten  about  half  his  room  Father  had  those  shoes  of 
dish  before  he  thought  of  some-  Mom's  looking  at  them  again.  "Re- 
thing.  "My  mother  used  to  have  mind  me  to  pick  up  some  mutton 
great  sport  freezing  ice  cream,  tallow  tomorrow,  and  I'll  rub  it  in- 
Women  now  are  missing  all  the  to  these  for  you.  Mother  always 
fun."  rubbed    mutton    tallow    into    our 

"Roger  Henderson,"  Mom  said,  shoes  to  preserve  the  leather.  Say, 
"do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  you  must  have  walked  all  over  town 
would  enjoy  that  ice  cream  more  if  today  to  get  those  blisters." 
you  knew  that  I  personally  chased  "We  hunted  material  for  Eliza- 
the  cow  down  and  got  the  cream  beth's  dance  costume,"  said  Mom. 
and  shinnied  up  a  tree  to  hunt  for  "She  ought  to  be  learning  some- 
pistachio  nuts  and  cracked  ice  from  thing  useful,"  said  Father. 



"Maybe  we  could  apprentice  her 
out  to  learn  a  trade/'  Mom  said. 

"No  one  would  have  her.  She's 
too  spoiled/'  said  Father.  "Girls 
nowadays  aren't  taught  to  do  any- 
thing useful  or  to  take  any  respon- 
sibilities. Then,  when  they  get 
married  and  find  out  there  isn't  a 
money  tree  outv  in  the  back  yard, 
they  run  home  to  Mama  and  get  a 
divorce.  I  want  Elizabeth  taught 
the  responsibilities  of  life."  He  was 
waggling  his  finger  at  Mom's  nose 
again.  "I  want  her  to  learn  that 
she  can't  leave  her  husband  and 
run  home  to  us  the  first  little  thing 
she  doesn't  like." 

I  began  to  cry.  "I  don't  want  to 
have  a  marriage  and  a  divorce  yet. 
I'm  only  ten.  Why  can't  I  just 
live  here  like  I  am?"  I  ran  and  threw 
myself  on  the  couch,  sobbing  loud- 

Father  ran  over  and  picked  me 
up  in  his  arms  and  started  cud- 
dling me.  "There,  there,  don't 
cry.  Grace,  how  many  times  have 
we  agreed  that  we  must  be  careful 
what  we  say  in  front  of  our  child? 
After  all,  she's  only  a  baby." 

HPHE  next  morning  at  breakfast 
Father  had  news  for  me.  "Your 
mother  has  asked  me  to  take  over 
the  buying  for  the  house  for  her," 
he  said.  "You'll  soon  see  a  change 
around  here.  You  won't  see  me 
running  to  the  store  every  five  min- 
utes to  bring  back  a  quarter's  worth 
of  potatoes.  I'll  buy  in  bulk.  Did 
I  ever  tell  you  about  when  we  lived 
on  the  ranch?" 

"Yes,"  Mom  said  quickly.  "You 
ate  beans  by  the  peck.  And  you 
always  ate  by  candlelight.  It  was 

"Yes,"  said  Father.  "And  my 
father  taught  all  his  boys  to  eat 
well,  work  hard,  and  to  stand  on 
their  own  two  feet." 

"Isn't  Uncle  Eddie  your  father's 
boy?"  I  asked. 

"Of  course  he  is.    Why?" 

"Does  he  stand  on  his  own  feet? 
I've  heard  you  tell  Mom  he  leans 
on  you  and  borrows  money  from 
you,  and  never  pays  it  back  and 
just  comes  to  see  you  to  eat  your 
chocolates  and  borrow  things  .  .  .  ." 

"Elizabeth!  Hush  this  instant!" 
said  Father. 

"That's  what  you  say,"  I  said. 
"You  say  he  mooches,  and  Aunt 
Marie  feels  sorry  for  herself,  and 
you're  tired  of  loaning  .  .  .  ." 

"Elizabeth,  in  the  future  please 
pay  more  attention  to  your  own 
affairs  and  not  to  things  that  don't 
concern  you." 

"Shall  I  make  out  a  grocery  list 
each  day?"  asked  Mom. 

Father  laughed.  "No,  that  isn't 
the  way  I'll  do  it.  I'll  only  go  to 
the  store  about  every  two  weeks." 

HpHE  last  time  Father  went  on  a 
foodbuying  fling  he  bought 
eleven  bushels  of  over-ripe  peaches 
from  a  fruit  peddler.  Mom  canned 
them,  dried,  jammed,  and  preserved 
them.  We  still  have  scads  of  peach 
preserves  in  the  basement,  but  for 
some  reason  we  don't  like  them. 

Toward  evening  Father's  provis- 
ions began  arriving.  There  were 
cases  of  milk,  sacks  of  flour  and 
potatoes,  five  hundred  pounds  of 
sugar,  and  a  gunny  sack  full  of  red 
beans.  That  night  he  came  up  on 
the  back  porch  staggering  under 
what  turned  out  to  be  a  quarter  of 
beef.     He   dropped   it   down.     "I 



wonder  if  I  can  carry  in  the  rest  of 

"The  rest?"  asked  Mom.  "You 
mean  there's  more?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Father.  "I  bought 
a  whole  beef.  The  farmer  I  got  it 
from  said  he  had  to  kill  the  whole 
thing  at  once." 

"We'll  have  to  buy  one  of  those 
home  freezers,  won't  we?" 

"On  the  ranch  my  mother  used 
to  take  what  we  couldn't  use  up 
and  fry  it,  put  it  in  a  barrel  and 
pour  grease  over  it." 

"We'll  get  a  home  freezer."  Mom 
sounded  like  it  wouldn't  pay  to 
trifle  with  her. 

"Okay.  Okay,"  said  Father.  "I'll 
see  to  it.  But  that's  the  trouble 
with  women  nqwadays.  Lost  all 
their  pioneer  spirit." 

The  next  day  we  were  delivered 
a  new  home  freezer,  and  a  man 
came  and  cut  the  meat  all  up  and 
wrapped  it. 

Father  came  home  happy  again 
that  night.  He  had  a  big  wooden 
barrel  and  several  sacks  of  cabbage. 
"I'm  going  to  make  a  barrel  of 
sauerkraut  like  Father  used  to,"  he 
said.    "Yum,  yum!" 

They  sliced  cabbage  on  the  back 
porch  all  evening  and  dumped  it 
in  the  barrel.  "Is  that  all  you  do 
to  it?"  Mom  asked. 

"Yes,  as  I  recall,  it  just  has  to 
sour  and  start  working." 

"I  hope  you  recall  correctly,"  said 
Mom.  "That's  fifty  cabbages." 

The  meals  didn't  really  get  bad 
for  several  days  because  Mom  had 
some  things  on  hand.  But  we  were 
always  out  of  something  and  Father 
never  bought  such  unnecessary 
items  as  nuts,  dates,  vegetables,  or 

green  stuff.  Just  plenty  of  meat, 
potatoes,  and  beans. 

A  few  days  later  he  brought  home 
a  whole  pork. 

"A  whole  pork?"  asked  Mom. 

"Yes,"  said  Father.  "I  asked  the 
farmer  if  he  wouldn't  kill  just  a  ham 
and  a  slab  of  bacon,  but  he  was  a 
stubborn  fellow.  I'm  going  to  home- 
cure  it  like  father  used  to  do.  I'll  rub 
it  with  salt  and  wrap  it  up  and  put 
it  in  one  of  those  drawers  on  the 

"While  you're  out  there,  take  a 
look  at  that  sauerkraut." 

Father  took  the  lid  off  the  bar- 
rel and  sniffed.  "It's  coming  fine. 
It's  just  starting  to  season." 

"I  didn't  know  there  was  a  season 
in  the  world  that  smelled  like  that," 
was  Mom's  answer. 

'PHE  next  day  Mom  kept  taking 
the  lid  off  the  sauerkraut  bar- 
rel, then  putting  it  back  quick. 
"Fifty  cabbages  at  thirty  cents 
each,"  she  said.  "No  wonder  it 
smells  so  rich." 

For  dinner  that  night  we  had 
roast  beef,  potatoes,  and  beans,  and 
for  dessert,  peach  preserves.  The 
next  night  we  had  the  same  thing. 
Then  Father  went  out  on  the  porch 
to  look  at  his  pork. 

"It  smells  funny,"  said  Mom. 

"It's  starting  to  season.  I'll  rub 
more  salt  on  it." 

"While  you're  out  there  look  at 
the  sauerkraut,"  said  Mom. 

Father  looked  at  the  sauerkraut 
and  it  was  growing  whiskers.  "It 
doesn't  look  quite  right,"  he  said. 
"I'll  just  skim  the  top  wave  off." 
He  skimmed  the  top  wave  off  the 
sauerkraut  and  took  it  out  back  of 
the  garage  and  buried  it. 



The  next  night  at  dinner  Mom 
said,  "Roger,  aren't  you  a  little 
tired  of  this  meal?  Wouldn't  you 
rather  I'd  take  the  shopping  back. 
I  know  you're  terribly  busy." 

"What's  the  matter  with  this 
meal?"  he  inquired.  "There  are 
plenty  of  families  in  the  world  who 
would  be  glad  to  have  a  meal  like 
this.  I  love  peach  preserves."  He 
ate  a  very  small  spoonful. 

That  night  he  rubbed  more  salt 
on  the  pork.  The  sauerkraut  had 
grown  more  whiskers,  so  he  buried 
another  wave  of  it  behind  the 
garage.  "Those  cabbages  must  have 
been  frostbitten,"  he  said. 

The  next  morning  Father  said, 
"Grace,  on  second  thought,  I'm  so 
busy,  maybe  you  should  make  me 
a  list  of  the  things  we  need  each 
week.    I'll  shop  once  a  week." 

All  day  long  whenever  Mom 
thought  of  something  she'd  write 
it  down  till  the  list  covered  a  whole 
page.  The  next  morning  when  she 
handed  it  to  Father  he  made  a 
snorting  noise.  "I  can  see  there  are 
a  lot  of  unnecessary  items  on  here," 
he  said. 

Mother  was  hopping  mad  when 
she  unpacked  the  groceries  that 
afternoon.  "Elizabeth,  guess  what 
we're  having  for  dinner?  We're 
having  beef,  potatoes,  beans,  and 
peach  preserves.  Your  Father  has 
crossed  everything  else  I  ordered  off 
the  list." 

Just  then  the  phone  rang.  "Why, 
hello,  Eddie,  how  nice,"  Mom  said. 
"You  and  Marie  be  sure  to  come 
and  have  dinner  with  us." 

Mom  started  to  smile  and  hurry 
around  and  plan.  Then  she  stopped 
smiling,  got  a  pencil  and  made  a 
list.    "Come  on,  we're  going  to  the 

store.  If  your  Uncle  Eddie  and 
Aunt  Marie  ate  what  we've  been 
eating  I'd  be  embarrassed  to  death." 

We  went  out  on  the  back  porch 
and  started  for  the  door.  But  Mom 
turned  her  ankle  on  a  gunny  sack 
full  of  rice  and  almost  fell  down. 
She  sat  down  and  rubbed  her 

"Rice!"  she  yelled.  "A  whole 
hundred  pound  sack  of  rice,  but  I 
can't  have  one  small  can  of  baking 
powder."  She  stood  there  hesitat- 
ing. "Well,  come  on,"  she  said. 

Outside,  we  saw  Sandy,  the  neigh- 
bor's cocker  spaniel,  and  two  other 
dogs  dragging  something  out  from 
behind  the  garage.  It  looked  like 
a  ham,  only  I'd  never  seen  green 
ham  before. 

"That  looks  like  your  Father's 
pork,"  Mom  said.    "I  wonder  .  .  .  ." 

\A7"E  went  out  on  the  porch  and 
looked  in  the  drawers  and 
they  Were  empty,  except  for  a  bad 

"I  knew  Father  was  burying 
something  last  night,"  I  said,  "but 
I  thought  it  was  just  another  wave 
off  the  sauerkraut." 

Mom  went  back  in  the  house  and 
took  off  her  coat.  "What's  good 
enough  for  us  ought  to  be  good 
enough  for  them,"  she  decided. 

She  cooked  dinner  and  set  the 
table  with  some  long  candles.  Then 
she  put  on  those  home  comfort 
shoes  that  pinched,  and  limped 
down  to  the  basement.  I  saw  her 
take  the  fuse  plugs  out  of  the  light 
meter  and  put  them  in  her  dress 

Father,  Uncle  Eddie,  and  Aunt 
Marie  came  before  it  was  dark. 
Uncle  Eddie  and  Father  sat  on  the 



porch  and  talked  and  I  sat  and 
listened.  Uncle  Eddie  told  Father 
about  an  idea  he  had  to  make  mo- 
lasses out  of  sawdust  and  how  much 
capital  he  had  to  scare  up.  So  I 
went  in  the  house  to  show  Aunt 
Marie  my  new  dance  costume.  Fa- 
ther and  Uncle  Eddie  followed -me 

"I  guess  I  won't  be  able  to  wear 
the  costume  much/'  I  said.  "Father 
wants  me  to  quit  dancing  and  learn 
a  trade." 

"Well,  that  wasn't  exactly  what 
I  meant/'  said  Father. 

Then  I  saw  Aunt  Marie  look 
down  at  Mom's  shoes.  Uncle  Eddie 
looked  at  them,  too,  and  then  they 
looked  at  each  other. 

Soon  Uncle  Eddie  began  hunting 
for  Father's  chocolates.  He  found 
one  and  sniffed  at  it.  "Why,  these 
are  no  better  than  the  brand  I 

Father  looked  apologetic.  Mom 
put  on  the  stewed  meat  and  stuff. 
It  didn't  look  very  fancy.  Uncle 
Eddie  and  Aunt  Marie  looked  fun- 
ny at  each  other  some  more. 

"How  is  the  law  profession  late- 
ly?" asked  Uncle  Eddie. 

"Fine.    Busier  than  ever." 

"I  always  knew  there'd  be  a  slump 
in  the  law  business." 

"Well,  there  isn't,"  denied  Fa- 
ther. "Say,  turn  on  the  lights.  It's 
getting  dark  in  here." 

Mom  jumped  up  and  lighted  the 

"I  still  can't  find  my  beans,"  com- 
plained Father. 

"I  thought  you  liked  candlelight," 
said  Mom. 

"It's  all  right  but  we  need  a  little 
more  of  it."  He  got  up  and  clicked 
the    light    switch.     He    tried    the 

kitchen  light.  "Phone  the  power 
company  and  tell  them  to  come  and 
fix  our  lights." 

"I  heard  about  some  people  who 
didn't  pay  their  light  bill,"  I  said. 
"The  company  came  and  turned 
their  lights  off." 

Father  glared  at  me.  "I  always 
pay  my  light  bill." 

"Anyone  might  forget  to  pay 
their  bill,"  said  Aunt  Marie. 

"I  said  my  light  bill  was  paid." 
Father  sounded  cross. 

"Okay,"  said  Uncle  Eddie.  "It's 
a  good  story,  so  stick  to  it." 

Father  opened  his  mouth  twice, 
but  no  sound  came  out. 

"Lots  of  families  are  economizing 
these  days,"  suggested  Aunt  Marie. 

Uncle  Eddie  speared  a  piece  of 
beef  on  his  fork.  "Personally,  I  have 
always  preferred  plain,  cheap  food." 

"If  you  are  referring  to  that  piece 
of  beef,"  Father  yelled,  "let  me  in- 
form you  that  the  critter  cost  me 
something  over  three  hundred  dol- 
lars all  told.  And  we  are  not 
economizing.  This  month  I  have 
spent  seven  hundred  dollars  for 

TJNCLE  Eddie  shook  his  head 
sadly.  Even  I  could  see  he  and 
Aunt  Marie  were  pitying  Father. 

They  didn't  stay  long  after  din- 
ner. Uncle  Eddie  said  he  had  to 
hurry  and  see  a  man  about  a  proposi- 
tion. Father  followed  them  out  on 
the  porch  to  say  goodbye.  He  came 
back  in  looking  stunned.  He  sat 
down  and  turned  a  ten-dollar  bill 
over  and  over  in  his  hand. 

"Grace,"  he  exploded,  "he  actual- 
ly gave  me  ten  dollars  on  what  he 
owes  me  and  said  if  I  ever  needed 
anything  to  call  on  him.  He  didn't 



even  ask  me  to  loan  him  money. 
What's  my  money  good  for,  if  not 
to  help  my  family  when  they  need 

He  jumped  to  his  feet.  "Grace, 
do  you  think  he  actually  thought 
we  were  down  to  bedrock?  What 
could  have  given  him  that  impres- 

Mom  hurried  into  the  kitchen  to 
clean  up  dishes  in  the  dark,  and 
Father  paced  around  the  living 
room  like  a  caged  lion.  After  a 
while  he  came  in  the  kitchen  and 
held  out  his  hand.  "I  begin  to  catch 
on,"  he  said.  "Give  me  the  fuses. 
I  saw  them  in  your  apron  pocket. 
I  have  been  framed." 

Mom  gave  them  to  him  and  he 
went  down  in  the  basement.  She 
sighed  with  relief  and  turned  on  the 
electric  dish  washer.  Soon  we  heard 
him  chuckling  to  himself  in  the  liv- 
ing room,  so  Mom  and  I  went  in. 

"Is  something  funny?"  she  asked. 

"Grace,  I've  just  decided  what's 
the  matter  with  the  world." 

"Yes?"  asked  Mom  cautiously. 

"Yes,"  father  repeated,  "too  many 
people  get  to  thinking  that  money 
is  the  most  valuable  thing  in  life. 
They  try  to  scrimp  and  save  it. 
Grace,  money  should  be  used  to 
purchase  the  comforts  and  pleas- 
ures of  life  it  is  possible  to  buy. 
What  other  earthly  good  is  the 
stuff?    Can  you  tell  me?" 

Mom  blinked.  "You'll  have  to 
wait  for  me,"  she  remarked.  "I  fol- 
low but  from  a  distance." 

"If  men  would  quit  being  so 
stingy  there  wouldn't  be  so  many 
poor  little  helpless  women  clutter- 
ing up  the  divorce  courts." 

Father  had  a  dewy  look  around 

the  eyes.  "For  what  other  reason 
would  a  man  work  and  slave  except 
to  provide  a  few  comforts  for  the 
ones  he  loves?"  He  reached  down 
to  pull  Mom  to  him  and  I  got  in 
the  middle.    He  looked  down  at  me. 

"Elizabeth,  run  down  to  the  drug- 
store and  buy  two  quarts  of  pink 
pistachio  nut  ice  cream  and  all  the 
syrup  and  nuts  they'll  sell  you." 

As  I  left,  Father  had  Mom's 
shoes  holding  them  up  in  front  of 
him.  "Those  are  without  doubt 
the  ugliest  pair  of  shoes  I  have  ever 
encountered,"  he  said. 

I  hurried  and  bought  the  ice 
cream  and  all  the  trimmings.  As 
I  came  to  our  back  door,  Sandy,  the 
cocker  spaniel,  jumped  out  of  the 
ash  can  with  one  of  Mom's  home 
comfort  shoes.  The  way  he  chewed 
on  it  he  must  have  been  starved  for 
mutton  tallow. 

Father  loaded  our  dishes  with  ice 
cream  and  syrup  and  nuts.  "Isn't 
it  wonderful,"  he  remarked,  "the 
luscious  confections  that  a  family 
can  have  nowadays  without  any 
trouble  at  all?" 

"Father,"  I  asked,  "did  you  have 
pink  pistachio  nut  ice  cream  when 
you  were  on  the  ranch?" 

Father  had  a  lump  of  ice  cream 
on  his  spoon  the  size  of  a  door 
knob.  "We  didn't  have  many 
things  to  eat  on  the  ranch,"  he  said. 
"It's  a  wonder  we  didn't  all  die 
of  beri  beri,  scurvy,  and  malnutri- 
tion, but  we  didn't." 

I  can't  figure  Mom  out.  Here 
she  had  the  most  wonderful  oppor- 
tunity to  crow,  but  for  the  next  five 
minutes  I  didn't  hear  a  sound  ex- 
cept the  three  of  us  crunching 

Josef    Muench 



KJljo    Lfou  [Remember? 

Grace  Sayre 

The  rain-wet  dogwood  bursts  along  the  land, 
Its  tinted  blossoms  opal  as  the  day; 
Beside  the  stream,  the  silver,  slanting  rain 
Repeats  its  song  of  spring.  Yet  again 
The  reaching  ferns  unroll  their  fronds  of  gay, 
Soft  feathers  for  the  trillium's  white  bells 
Unfolding  for  the  advent  of  new  spring; 
Mark  now  the  flash  of  bluebirds  on  the  wing. 

Do  you  remember  how  the  soft,  sweet  rain 
Opened  the  showy  balls  of  white  pear  bloom? 
The  rain  that  dripped  in  silver  on  each  pane, 
Washing  away  the  darkness  and  the  winter — 
Do  you  remember?    Do  you  still  recall 
Its  cleansing  heart  and  soul  from  dark  and  gloom? 

Page  236 

A  Frame  for  Happiness 

Ora  Pate  Stewart 

ALICIA    WEBSTER    looked  noculars    upon    those    fingers,    But 

through  the  large  plate  glass  they    wouldn't    now.     Women    at 

window  that  framed  the  flow-  luncheons    sometimes    asked    what 

ering  quince  tree  blooming  in  the  lotion   she  used.    And   the  girl  at 

front   yard.     Under   the    flowering  the  glove  counter  always  remarked 

quince  her  children,  Catherine  and  about   them.    But   something   had 

Waverly,  aged  seven  and  four,  were  gone  from  those  hands,  and  Alicia 

playing  for  the  moment  contentedly,  knew  it. 

Beyond  the  tree  and  the  children  She  looked  beyond  the  mailbox 

and  the  spacious  lawn  ran  the  white  and  down  the  lane  that  led  to  the 

lattice  fence  like  a  starched  edging  foot  of  their  little  hill.  At  the  foot 

of  stiff  lace.  And  beyond  the  fence  of  the  hill  the  McDermott's  resi- 

stood   an   impressive   looking  mail  dence   sprawled   with   all   its   little 

box,    carefully  lettered      with   the  outbuildings   and   machinery.   The 

name,    /.    Bainett   Webster.    The  McDermott  house  was  small  and 

mail   box   was   one   of   the   things  squatty,  and  was  covered  all  over 

that  came  with  living  so  far  out.  with  brown  shingles  that  had  curled 

And  Alicia  didn't  mind  the  rural-  and  wrinkled  in  the  weather,  mak- 

ness  of  it.  ing  the  house  look  like  an  angry 

"Someday,"  Barnett  had  told  her  brown  thrush  with  its  feathers  ruf- 

in  those  struggling  days  of  depres-  fled   against   life   in    general.    The 

sion  when  they  were  trying  so  hard  outbuildings  had  lost  what  character 

to   finish   college,   "we  will   buy  a  they  once  had;  and  the  machinery 

lovely  hill  at  the  edge  of  the  sub-  managed  only  to  give  the  aspect  of 

urbs;  and  we  will  build  a  house—  junk. 

a  rambly  one,  with  big  shiny  win-  The  McDermotts  had  eight 
dows  and  a  flowering  quince  tree  in  children,  each  with  a  haircut  pat- 
front.  And  you  will  never  have  to  terned  from  the  same  bowl,  boys 
play  another  concert  or  give  a  music  and  girls  alike.  And  on  wash  days 
lesson  again."  the  laundry,  all  colors  homogenized 

That  someday  had  come.    And  into  a  dull  blur,  swung  from  the 

Alicia  thought,  with  a  little  pang  of  barbed    wire    fences.     The    fences 

longing,  of  the  dusty  old  cello  that  ran   everywhere,   because   the   Mc- 

had  been  stored  in  the  attic  at  her  Dermotts    had    ten    chickens,    two 

mother's  for  so   many  years.    She  pigs,  one  cow,  and  a  goat.     As  an 

looked  at  her  slender  fingers.  They  item  was  needed,  a  towel,  a  pair  of 

were  whiter  now,  and  there  were  no  overalls,  or  a  change  for  the  baby, 

traces  of  the  toughened  ends,  those  the  clothes  came  down   from  the 

sensitive  tips  that  had  always  found  fence,  one  at  a  time.  Sometimes  the 

just  the  right  place  on  the  strings  sections    surrounding    the   goat   all 

and  molded  the  tones  as  a  sculptor  came  down  the  same  day. 

molds   his   clay   into   living   spirit.  Across  the  lane  from  the  McDer- 

People  had  once  trained  their  bi-  motts,  and  two  hundred  yards  be- 

Page  237 



yond,  set  back  behind  a  stately  row 
of  poplars,  was  the  sheltered  estate 
of  Amy  English.  Amy  had  always 
had  position  and  had  lived  in  the 
greatest  comfort.  Alicia  had  known 
her  in  high  school.  She  wondered 
now  if  it  could  have  been  envy  that 
had  made  Amy  make  fun  of  her 
and  her  cello  in  those  painful,  far- 
away days.  Amy  was  very  nice  to 
her  now,  even  solicitous.  But  Alicia 
felt  genuinely  sorry  for  her.  Amy 
had  had  no  cello  to  shape  her 
younger  years,  and  she  had  no  chil- 
dren to  mold  her  life  around  now. 
She  merely  had  the  wealth  she  had 
always  had;  and  Alicia  knew  that 
that  was  not  enough. 

TT  was  queer.    The  McDermotts 

had  so  many  children,  and  no 
money.  And  Amy  English  had  so 
much  money,  and  no  children.  And 
she,  Alicia  Webster,  who  had  once 
been  considered  poor,  was  now  con- 
sidered rich,  and  had  two  wonderful 
children  as  well. 

"I  wouldn't  trade  with  anybody," 
Alicia  said  to  herself.  "Still,  it 
would  be  nice  to  have  eight  chil- 
dren as  sweet  as  Catherine  and 

I  am  not  a  very  good  neighbor, 
she  thought.  Surely  there  is  some- 
thing I  could  do  for  the  McDer- 
motts. And  what  could  be  done  for 
Amy  English?  Her  need  is  just  as 
great.  And  here  am  I  with  every- 
thing; and  what  am  I  doing  about 

Just  then  some  childish  difference 
disrupted  the  quiet  of  the  scene 
under  the  flowering  quince,  and 
Alicia  went  out  to  investigate.  As 
she  suspected,  the  girl  was  com- 
manding the  fleet,  and  the  boy  had 
one  ship  that  he  was  determined  to 

man.  Alicia  divided  the  navy  into 
equal  properties,  and  smooth  sail- 
ing was  again  maintained.  But 
while  she  was  doing  this  nautical 
problem  she  had  not  noticed  that 
two  ladies  had  walked  the  length 
of  the  lane  and  were  now  opening 
the  white  lattice  gate. 

"Good  morning,  Sister  Webster," 
called  an  uncertain  voice.  "We 
hoped  we'd  find  you  at  home." 
Both  women  looked  at  the  big  win- 
dow. "My,  what  a  beautiful  win- 
dow!" continued  the  one.  "Just 
like  a  frame.  A  frame  for  the  picture 
of  happiness." 

"We  love  our  home,"  Alicia  said 
modestly.  "I  guess  we  appreciate 
it  so  much  because  we  have  worked 
and  waited  so  long."  She  had  added 
this  last  because  she  had  noticed  the 
work-worn  hands  of  her  callers,  and 
felt  a  little  pang  that  her  own  white 
hands  did  not  give  the  impression 
of  usefulness. 

"We  have  to  work  for  every- 
thing worthwhile,"  said  the  woman, 
"and  sometimes  the  waiting  is  as 
important  as  the  working." 

Alicia  suspected  that  the  woman 
had  added  this  last  because  her  work 
had  not  yet  been  rewarded. 

"  'Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait/  " 
Alicia  quoted. 

"My  name  is  Agnes  Mains,"  the 
woman  announced,  "and  this  is  my 
companion,  Martha  Hensley.  This 
is  not  our  regular  Relief  Society 
visiting  day,  but  we  have  an  errand 
just  the  same.  As  you  may  know, 
we  are  building  a  new  chapel." 

Alicia  did  not  know.  She  was 
still  considered  new  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, she  lived  far  out,  and  she  had 
been  too  occupied  to  even  look  up 
the  Church  or  have  her  membership 


transferred.  It  was  one  of  the  things  "Oh,  yes,  we  have  a  lovely  trio," 

she  was  going  to  do  next.  agreed  Agnes  Mains.  "The  Manwar- 

"Come  on  in,"  she  invited  cor-  ing  sisters  are  going  to  play  all  the 

dially.   "I'll  get  my  purse  and  write  while  we're  eating." 

you  out  a  check."  The   Manwaring   sisters?    Alicia 

"No,  we  didn't  come  for  money,"  had  never  heard  of  them.  They  must 

the  woman  said.    "It's  up  to  the  have  come  since  her  time.    As  she 

men  to  raise  the  money  this  time,  thought  of  it,  Alicia  decided  she 

but  the  ward  is  having  a  banquet,  must  have  been  before  their  time, 

and  we  are  helping  with  the  dinner."  Could  it  be  that  Agnes  Mains  had 

never  heard  of  Alicia  and  her  cello? 

HPHEY  climbed  the  flagstone  steps,  "Do  you  play  the  piano?"  asked 

crossed  the  tile  patio,  and  came     Mrs.  Mains. 

into  the  living  room.  "Oh,    not    very    well,"    replied 

"My,  the  window  is  just  as  much  Alicia, 

of  a  picture  from  this  side."  said  "Well,   what   I   was   saying,   we 

the  woman  known  as  Agnes  Mains,  would  like  you  to  do  something  for 

"That  is  the  wonderful  thing  about  the  banquet.    It  is  something  very 

a  window.   It  both  gives  and  takes,  special.    We  want  this  banquet  to 

It  frames  the  happiness  within,  and  be  very  fine." 

it  frames  the  beauty  without."  Some  limbs  from  the  flowering 

Alicia  had  never  thought  of  it  in  quince?    Alicia  hoped  not.    It  had 

just  that  way.    Agnes  Mains  was  just  taken  a  good  root, 

somewhat  of  a  philosopher.  "We've  "I  will  have  some  beautiful  iris 

always    wanted    a    big    window,"  in  another  week,"  she  offered. 

Alicia  said  modestly.  "Oh,  the  Corless  Floral  is  fur- 

"But  you  musn't  let  the  window  nishing  all  the  flowers,"  said  Mrs. 

hold  all  the  happiness  inside  the  Mains. 

frame,"    cautioned    Agnes    Mains.  Just  what  was  Alicia  to  do  for  the 

"You  must  let  it  give.  You  must  let  banquet  that  was  so  special,  and  ap- 

it  show  outside."  parently  such  a  secret? 

Yes,    thought    Alicia,    a    frame  "We    are    asking    members    to 

should  not  be  too  confining.    Just  bring  items  of  food,"  Mrs.  Hensley 

what  was  it  that  Mrs.  Mains  wanted  enlightened, 

her  to  give?  "I  would  be  glad  to  make  you  a 

"We  have  come  to  ask  you  to  do  large  bowl  of  potato  salad,"  Alicia 

something  for  the  banquet."  volunteered. 

Something      musical,      thought  "Sister    Wanstrath     and     Sister 

Alicia.     "Of   course,    I'll   be   glad  Harkness  are  bringing  the  potato 

to  do  anything  I  can,  but  I'm  ter-  salad,"  said  Mrs.  Mains. 

ribly  out  of  practice."   She  thought  "I'm  pretty  good  at  graham-crack- 

of  the  cello,  dusty  and  out  of  tune,  er  pies,"  suggested  Alicia, 

perhaps  even  needing  a  string  or  "We're   having    ice    cream    and 

two.    "I  suppose  I  could  work  up  cake." 

something.    You    really    ought    to  "We're    having    an    awful    hard 

have  a  trio  for  a  banquet,  though."  time  trying  to  get  someone  to  make 



the  rolls/'  Mrs.  Hensley  confessed, 
'and  we  wondered  if  you  would 
make  two  dozen  clover-leaf  rolls? 
You  have  such  a  beautiful  home, 
and  you  must  give  an  awful  lot  of 
parties,  and  they  always  serve  rolls." 
She  said  it  almost  like  a  question. 

VES,  Alicia  lived  in  a  beautiful 
house.  And  she  had  a  lot  of  par- 
ties. And  she  always  served  rolls. 
But  Alicia  had  never  made  a  roll  in 
her  life.  She  had  always  asked  a 
friend,  hired  a  cook,  or  gone  to  the 
bakery.  She  was  just  a  little  pan- 
icky. Why  didn't  they  want  her 
potato  salad,  or  a  graham-cracker 

"We  want  this  to  be  a  labor  of 
love  and  good  will,"  said  Mrs. 
Mains.    "Every  item.    .   .   ." 

Alicia  stood  up.  "I  just  can't 
bring  rolls,"  she  said  in  anguished 
tones.   "Not  clover-leaf  rolls." 

Why  had  she  never  learned  to 
make  rolls?  It  went  way  back  to 
those  dreadful  days  when  there  was 
never  any  shortening,  nor  enough 
sugar,  and  all  the  experiments  with 
dough  must  be  left  to  her  mother, 
who  could  somehow  make  flour  and 
water  and  salt  turn  into  "something 
to  eat"  for  a  hungry  brood.  The 
thought  of  clover-leaf  rolls  thor- 
oughly frightened  Alicia. 

"No,  I  will  not  be  able  to  help 
you,"  Alicia  said  firmly.  Then  no- 
ticing the  helplessness  on  Mrs.  Hen- 
sley's  face,  "Another  time  perhaps. 
But  not  now." 

The  ladies  left,  and  Alicia 
watched  them  through  the  window 
as  they  fastened  the  white  lattice 
gate  and  trudged  down  the  lane. 
They  would  not  stop  at  the  Mc- 
Dermotts.    The  McDermotts  had 

nothing  to  contribute  toward  a  ban- 
quet. And  they  would  not  stop  at 
the  estate  of  Amy  English,  as  Amy 
did  not  belong  to  the  Church.  They 
would  trudge  all  the  way  back  to 
the  car  line  or  to  wherever  it  was 
they  lived,  and  Alicia  would  never 
see  them  again. 

But  she  didn't  feel  right  about  it. 
Never  before  had  she  refused  to  do 
anything  she  had  been  asked  for 
the  Church.  If  the  chorister  didn't 
show  up,  Alicia  had  wielded  the 
baton;  if  a  teacher  was  ill,  Alicia 
could  always  be  depended  upon  to 
give  a  lesson.  And  once,  when  a 
noted  performer  was  detained  and 
couldn't  fill  an  engagement,  Alicia 
had  taken  her  cello  and  played  a 
complete  concert,  to  the  delight  of 
the  audience  and  the  cause.  Yes,  it 
had  always  been  a  part  of  her  reli- 
gion to  do  anything  that  was  asked. 
That  was  the  way  one  grew.  Alicia 
did  not  want  to  stop  growing.  The 
ladies  were  now  approaching  Amy's 
gate.  What  day  had  they  said  thef 
banquet  would  be  held?  Thursday 
wasn't  it?  And  this  was  Monday. 
Alicia  hurried  to  the  phone. 

"Amy,  oh,  Amy,  this  is  Alicia. 
You  see  those  two  women  who  are 
pasing  your  gate?  I  wish  you'd  run 
out  and  stop  them.  And  Amy,  tell 
them  that  Sister  Webster  will  con- 
tribute two  dozen  clover-leaf  rolls 
for  the  ward  banquet.  .  .  Yes,  that's 
all,  Amy.  Thanks  I'll  see  you  soon." 

Alicia  did  not  notice  that  the 
steps  of  Agnes  Mains  and  Martha 
Hensley  were  springier  after  they 
had  passed  Amy  English's  gate. 
She  was  busy  studying  the  cook- 



fXN  Monday  evening,  J.  Barnett 
Webster  came  home  to  a  supper 
of  hot  clover-leaf  rolls,  buttei,  and 
jam,  with  plenty  of  cold  miik 

"There  just  wasi/t  any  time  for 
anything  else,"  Alicia  saiV!  apologeti- 
cally. "I  watched  the  rolls  so  hard. 
The  waiting  is  as  important  as  the 

}.  Barnett  ate  them  and  patted 
Alicia's  hand.  The  little  Websters 
praised  them  just  barely  enough, 
because  they  were  not  precisely  the 
best  rolls  they  had  ever  eaten. 

On  Tuesday  evening  the  McDer- 
motts  were  surprised  to  see  Alicia 
Webster  at  their  door  at  suppertime 
with  a  huge  pan  of  clover-leaf  rolls. 

If  they  don't  want  them,  they 
can  always  feed  them  to  the  pigs, 
she  thought  to  herself. 

'They  smell  just  like  a  bakery!" 
shouted  one  of  the  little  McDer- 
motts.  And  his  smile  was  so  wide 
that  Alicia  didn't  notice  his  bowl 

Mrs.  McDermott  was  chopping 
up  some  rhubarb.  "It's  so  nice  of 
you  to  bring  us  these  biscuits.  Now 
you  please  take  some  of  this  pieplant 
home  for  a  cobbler.  We  got  plenty 
of  it,  and  you're  welcome  as  can  be. 
Marybelle,  you  go  out  and  pull 
Mrs.  Webster  some  fresh  pieplant. 
And  be  sure  to  get  it  where  the  goat 
hasn't  been." 

Alicia  talked  about  the  recipes  for 
pieplant  cobbler,  and  went  home 
with  a  panful  of  the  juicy  stalks,  and 
a  heart  that  felt  more  neighborli- 
ness  than  it  had  felt  since  she  had 
moved  up  on  the  hill. 

On  Wednesday  evening  Alicia 
put  on  her  crispest  frock  and  car- 
ried a  pan  of  steaming  rolls  over  to 
the  estate  of  Amy  English.  They 
were  as  lovely  a  batch  of  clover-leaf 

rolls  as  Amy  had  ever  seen,  and  she 
told  Alicia  so. 

"I  am  so  happy  that  you  are  my 
neighbor  now,"  said  Amy.  "I  never 
felt  that  I  knew  you  nearly  well 
enough  in  school.  And  weren't  we 
silly  then?  So  childish.  But  my, 
you  have  certainly  developed.  I 
want  to  see  much  more  of  you,  now 
that  we  live  here  side  by  side.  And 
do  bring  the  children.  You'll  never 
know  how  much  I  have  missed.  And 
I  have  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about 
doing  something  for  the  McDer- 
motts  for  Christmas,  or  Easter,  or 
something.  Let's  have  it  here  at 
my  house.  Although  yours  is  so 
new  and  beautiful.  Do  come  in  and 
let  us  talk  it  over." 

On  Thursday  evening  Alicia  went 
to  the  ward  banquet.  She  took  J. 
Barnett  and  Catherine  and  Waverly, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  McDermott.  Amy 
English  came  with  her  station  wag- 
on and  all  the  little  McDermotts. 
And  everybody  there  praised  Sister 
Webster's  hot  clover-leaf  rolls.  It 
was  honest  praise,  because  they  were 
the  best  rolls  there. 

"They  are  perfectly  wonderful," 
said  Agnes  Mains,  and  Martha  Hen- 
sley  smiled  at  her  gratefully.  J.  Bar- 
nett gave  her  an  understanding  smile 
of  praise. 

Yes,  thought  Alicia,  we  grow  by 
doing  what  we  are  asked  to  do.  And 
she  was  a  happier  woman  with  her 
new  skill.  Maybe  she  would  be  a 
little  stiff  with  a  cello  now.  But  she 
would  never  be  afraid  of  a  bread 
pan  again. 

As  they  drove  into  the  driveway 
that  night  the  lights  glinted  on  the 
big  picture  window.  Sister  Mains 
was  right.  No  frame  should  hold  all 
the  happiness.  It  was  best  to  let 
some  of  it  come  out. 

Sixty    Ljears  *J\qo 

Excerpts  from  the  Woman's  Exponent,  April  i,  and  April  15,  1892 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

the  death  of  Eliza  R.  Snow,  which  occurred  Dec.  5th,  1887,  Sister  Zina  D.  Young,  who 
had  been  her  first  counselor,  took  charge  until  the  semi-annual  conference  of  the  Church, 
April  8,  1888,  when  she  was  appointed  to  preside  over  the  Relief  Society  ....  October 
11,  1888,  President  Zina  Young  chose  as  her  first  counselor  Jane  S.  Richards,  as  her 
second  Bathsheba  W.  Smith;  sec.  Sarah  M.  Kimball  ....  One  of  the  most  notable 
features  of  progress  of  the  Relief  Society  was  the  inauguration  of  annual  and  semi- 
annual conferences  for  women,  where  special  instruction  peculiar  to  their  work  could 
be  given  by  the  President  and  her  counselors  and  other  experienced  women,  and  where 
verbal  reports  could  be  made  by  the  presidents  of  stakes  or  their  representatives  .... 

Written  March  17,  1892,  for  the  Fiftieth  Anniversary  of  Relief  Society 

Well  may  the  songs  of  gladness 

Within  these  vales  resound, 
Hushed  every  note  of  sadness, 

And  only  joy  abound  .... 
The  wheels  of  time  have  brought  us 

With  ever  onward  pace, 
Till  fifty  years  their  course  have  run 
For  which  we  render  praise  .... 
This  work  in  the  beginning  small 

Will  great  and  greater  be, 
Till  happy  millions  gladly  keep 

Each  coming  Jubilee  .... 

— Hannah  Cornaby 

EDUCATE  WOMAN:  The  women  of  today  are  very  desirous  of  becoming  well 
educated  and  having  their  minds  cultivated  to  as  great  an  extent  as  possible  .... 
A  gentleman  will  wish  his  mother,  sister,  and  wife,  to  attain  to  as  high  a  degree  of 
intelligence  as  he,  himself  desires  to  become,  and  will  aid  her  in  doing  so  ...  .  We 
must  be  acquainted  with  the  great  issues  of  the  day;  the  two  National  Parties.  We 
must  decide  for  ourselves  what  our  politics  are  ...  .  — May  Brown 

BIRTHDAY  PARTY  IN  KANAB,  UTAH:  On  the  15th  of  March,  1892  by 
invitation  of  Sister  H.  Y.  Brown  I  went  to  her  home  and  met  other  sisters  there  in 
honor  of  the  birthday  of  her  mother,  Sister  Persis  S.  Richards,  who  reached  the  ripe 
age  of  eighty-six  years.  Though  feeble  in  body,  she  has  a  strong  will,  and  is  very  in- 
dustrious; a  great  lover  of  plants  and  flowers  and  at  the  present  time  they  afford  her 
much  pleasure  in  tending  and  caring  for  them.  She  is  conversant  upon  subjects  of 
interest  abroad;  and  takes  pains  to  read  the  important  changes  taking  place  among  the 
people  she  identified  herself  with  in  the  early  days  of  the  Church.  She  often  speaks 
of  her  early  association  with  Sisters  E.  R.  Snow,  Presendia  L.  Kimball  and  Zina  D.  H. 
Young.  Not  being  able  to  meet  with  us  to  celebrate  the  17th  of  March,  she  wrote 
a  few  sentiments  and  testified  to  the  divinity  of  the  mission  of  the  Prophet  Joseph 
Smith  with  whom  she  was  personally  acquainted  ....  — Harriet  D.  Bunting 

Page  242 

Woman's    Sphere 

r\N  February  eighth  Princess 
Elizabeth  Alexandra  Mary  was 
proclaimed  Queen  Elizabeth  II. 
Her  father,  King  George  VI,  died 
in  his  sleep  in  his  country  home  in 
Sandringham,  and  Elizabeth  and 
her  consort,  the  Duke  of  Edin- 
burgh, immediately  flew  home  from 
Nairobi,  Kenya  (Africa),  a  stop  in 
their  planned  around-the-world 
trip.  Twenty-five-year-old  Elizabeth 
has  two  children,  Prince  Charles  and 
Princess  Anne.  The  new  Queen 
is  enthusiastically  beloved  by  the 
British  people,  and  her  consort  is 
also  very  popular. 

jyf  IRIAM  PARKER,  who  came  to 
Salt  Lake  City  from  Blen- 
heim, South  Carolina,  because  of 
the  Church,  recently  won  a  cer- 
tificate of  proficiency  from  the 
National  Shorthand  Reporters  As- 
sociation. This  is  a  top  national 
award  presented  to  only  a  few 
stenographers  each  year.  In  qualify- 
ing, Miss  Parker  took  down  court 
testimony  at  200  words  a  minute 
for  eight  minutes. 

CIXTEEN-year-old  girl  scout, 
Nancy  Caton,  of  Presque  Isle, 
Maine,  is  national  president  of  six 
thousand  chapters  of  Future  Home- 
makers  of  America,  an  organization 
of  high  school  students  taking 
courses  in  homemaking. 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 

EARL,  ninety-five,  died  in 
Mesa,  Arizona,  in  January  1952. 
She  was  born  in  "The  Great 
Territory  of  Deseret,"  near  the  pres- 
ent site  of  Las  Vegas,  Nevada,  the 
first  white  child  born  in  Nevada. 
During  her  years. of  service  as  a  mid- 
wife in  the  vicinity  of  Pine,  Ari- 
zona, she  rode  horseback,  on  many 
occasions  as  much  as  forty  miles, 
to  assist  at  births.  She  was  the 
mother  of  eleven  children,  and 
among  her  descendants  were  eight 
great-great  grandchildren. 

A/f  ORE  colleges  are  open  to  wom- 
en than  to  men  in  the  United 
States,  there  being  273  colleges  for 
women  only  as  against  228  for  men 
only.  Of  an  estimated  2,045,000 
college  enrollment  about  705,000 
are  women,  with  about  105,000  at- 
tending women's  colleges;  the  other 
600,000  are  in  co-educational  in- 

nPULANE  University  has  received 
a  $30,000  grant  for  research  on 
the  B  vitamins  under  direction  of 
Dr.  Grace  A.  Goldsmith,  professor 
of  medicine. 

TTHE  United  States  Army's  first 
woman  dentist,  Captain  Helen 
E.  Myers,  was  commissioned  a  year 
ago  and  has  now  been  sent  over- 
seas to  a  hospital  in  Trieste. 

Page   243 


VOL  39  APRIL  1952  NO.  4 

cJabemacle  in  the   Vi/tldi 


Behold,  and  hearken,  O  ye  inhabitants  of  Zion,  and  all  ye  people  of  my  church 
who  are  afar  off,  and  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord  .  .  .  (D.  &  C.  70:1). 

"IA71TH  the  return  of  spring  to  the  as  one  devoted  saint  once  remarked, 

mountain  valleys,  the  saints  in  upon  his  return  to  his  farm  after 

Zion  and  those  in  far  places  are  attending  general  conference,  "And 

looking  forward  to  the  time  of  their  often,      following      the      furrows, 

meeting   in   general   conference   in  I   seem   to  hear   choir   music   and 

the   great   Tabernacle   on   Temple  words    of    wisdom    directing    my 

Square.    For  eighty-five  years  mem-  course  in  life,  even  as  I  follow  this 

bers  of  the  Church  have  assembed  furrow." 

in   this   historic   building   to   hear  Now  the  great  Tabernacle  cannot 

again  the  voices  of  their  presidents  hold  the  multitudes  who  come  to 

and    prophets    teaching    the    prin-  conference,  but  the  words  of  the 

ciples  of  the  restored  gospel.  prophets    and    the    voice    of    the 

The  Tabernacle,  first  used  for  gen-  organ  are  carried  to  far  places,  and 

eral  conference  in  1867,  was  erected  thousands  who  will  never  see  the 

by  faith  and  sacrifice,  by  a  people  Tabernacle— who  will  never  stand 

who    knew    material    poverty   and  within  its  domed  walls— still  may 

spiritual  grandeur.     The  saints  re-  enter  into  the  spirit  which  is  there, 

turn  to  conference  as  a  people  com-  and  they  may  be  partakers  of  the 

ing  home  to  that  which  they  love  joy    and     the     uplifting     comfort 

and  cherish.     For  them  there  has  which  so  abundantly  radiate  from 

always  been  enduring  strength,  se-  the  sacred  walls.    And  by  the  writ- 

curity,  inspiration,  and  a  great  peace  ten  word,  the  gospel  messages  are 

within  the  walls  of  the  Tabernacle,  sent  to  the  saints  abroad  to  be  long 

In    the    early    years    the    saints  treasured. 

journeyed  to  conference  from  the  And  over  the  years  the  messages 

"far   boundaries"    in    wagons    and  delivered  at  the  general  conferences 

buggies,  on  horseback,  and  many  of  in  the  Tabernacle  have  been  words 

them  walked  long  distances  to  hear  of  rejoicing,  of  gratitude  for  the  res- 

the  words  of  salvation  and  to  have  toration  of  the  gospel,  for  the  Proph- 

their    faith    renewed.     Afterwards,  et   Joseph   Smith   and   The   Book 

their  days  and  weeks  were  blessed  of  Mormon,  and  for  the  carrying  of 

and  enlightened  by  the  lasting  in-  the  message  of  salvation  to  the  far 

fluence  of  precious  words  and  lofty  countries  and  to  the  isles  of  the 

music— and  the  spirit  of  a  united  sea.    The  saints  have  heard  words 

people  gathered  in  worship.     It  is  of  direction  for  their  temporal  wel- 

Page  244 



fare,  and  they  have  been  nurtured 
by  eternal  truth.  They  have  been 
advised  to  build  chapels,  stake 
houses,  tabernacles,  and  temples— to 
build  with  the  strength  of  lasting 
stone,  and  with  the  beauty  of  the 
spirit  "which  exalteth."  They  have 
been  comforted  in  adversity  and 
sorrow,  and  they  have  been  in- 
structed regarding  their  relationship 

to  "that  great  banner"— the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  estab- 
lished "by  the  hands  of  wise  men 
.  .  .  raised  up  unto  this  very  pur- 
pose." And  the  saints  have  been 
instructed  regarding  that  perfect 
and  final  government  which  Jesus 
will  establish  upon  the  earth  for  its 
everlasting  glory. 

-V.  P.  C. 

toaster  on  the  uitlls 

Alice  Whitson  Norton 

Across  the  hills  the  voice  of  Easter  sings — 
In  feathery,  leafing  elm  and  budding  vine, 
In  sycamores  that  whisper  in  the  sun, 
And  storm-lashed  oaks  above  the  timberline. 

Across  the  hills  the  voice  of  Easter  sings — 
In  homing  birds  now  nesting  in  the  trees, 
And  on  the  passing  winds  the  whole  day  long, 
Broadcast,  with  joyous  hearts,  their  symphonies. 

Across  the  hills  the  voice  of  Easter  sings — 
Through  tender  plants  now  bursting  into  bloom, 
Each  one  revealing  in  a  quiet  way 
The  resurrected  Christ — the  empty  tomb! 


Lael  W.  Hill 

Already  the  valley  holds  warmth  from  this  newest-come  season — 
The  delicate  plumes  of  the  June  grass  turn  golden;  deep  red 
Appears,  with  its  promise  of  love  on  the  buds  of  the  roses. 
The  perfumes  of  linden  and  locust  are  mingled,  wind-spread. 

Spring  has  gone  up  to  the  mountains  and  sharp-clefted  canyons, 
Hiding  blue  violets  there  among  lingering  snows, 
Belatedly  touching  the  maples  and  aspens  with  magic, 
Teaching  swift  water  the  liquid  of  song  that  it  knows. 

Already  the  valley  air  shimmers  in  bright  premonition; 
The  pressure  of  summer  grows  firm  over  meadows  and  rills 
And,  tentative,  reaches  ahead  to  the  slope  that  lies  nearest — 
Following  spring  up  green  trails  to  the  cool  of  the  hills.        » 



(jDeiau  in    lllagazine  Subscriptions 

Due  to  unavoidable  conditions,  the  Magazine  circulation  department 
has  been  delayed  a  few  weeks  in  filling  the  orders  of  new  and  renewal 
subscribers.  We  trust  that  this  delay  has  not  caused  too  much  incon- 
venience to  these  subscribers.  We  desire  to  thank  all  those  who  have 
been  so  affected  for  their  patience  and  understanding. 

Save  cJhese  JLives 

Furnished  by  the  American  Cancer  Society,  Salt  Lake  City  Division 

fjMFTEEN  million  Americans  will  die  of  cancer  by  the  end  of  this  century 
unless  present  mortality  rates  are  altered.  Although  improved  diag- 
nostic and  treatment  methods  have  lowered  the  death  rate  for  some  types 
of  cancer,  the  number  of  deaths  is  rising  because  of  our  expanding  popu- 
lation and  its  increasing  proportion  of  older  people. 

Because  cancer  is  nearly  always  curable  when  diagnosed  in  its  early 
stages— and  nearly  always  fatal  when  undetected  until  advanced— knowl- 
edge of  the  seven  danger  signals  is  of  paramount  importance.  The  warn- 
ing symptoms  are: 

i.  Any  sore  that  does  not  heal. 

2.  A  lump  or  thickening  in  the  breast  or  elsewhere. 

3.  Unusual  bleeding  or  discharge. 

4.  Any  change  in  a  wart  or  mole. 

5.  Persistent  hoarseness  or  cough. 

6.  Persistent  indigestion  or  difficulty  in  swallowing. 

7.  Any  change  in  normal  bowel  habits. 

These  signs  do  not,  of  course,  point  inevitably  to  cancer,  but  a  physi- 
cian should  always  be  consulted. 

More  facts  about  cancer  have  been  discovered  in  the  last  seven  years 
than  in  the  preceding  history  of  the  world.  By  spreading  these  facts 
through  education  and  service,  the  American  Cancer  Society  hopes  to 
save  thousands  of  lives  this  coming  year.  This  is  a  much  larger  problem 
than  might  appear  at  a  glance.  Education  and  research  become  the  major 
objectives  of  the  Cancer  Crusade.  We  need  the  help  of  everyone— in 
funds,  time,  and  ability— to  save  the  lives  that  can  and  must  be  saved. 

Page  246 

Your  Flower  Garden 

Doithea  NewboJd 
Garden  Editor,  The  Deseret  News 

THE  word  garden  means  a 
planted  place  apart— a  place 
enclosed— a  protected  area.  A 
garden  may  provide  us  with  a  re- 
treat, a  place  where  the  family  may 
relax  and  escape  from  the  pressure 
and  rush  of  the  work-a-day  world. 
Whether  the  garden  area  is  large 
or  small,  it  can  provide  the  family 
with  an  outdoor  area  that  is  an  in- 
viting place  in  which  to  relax,  and 
which  supplements  the  rooms  of 
the  dwelling. 

Planning  the  Garden 

When  planning  a  garden  some 
factors  to  be  considered  are:  Is  the 
space  to  be  devoted  to  a  play  area 
for  young  people;  for  the  entertain- 
ing of  all  age  groups;  or  is  it  to  be 
a  hobby  garden  for  the  plant  en- 
thusiast; or  is  it  to  be  a  place  of 
retreat  for  the  aged?  When  we 
plan  our  homes  we  consider  the 
amount  of  entertaining  that  the 
family  does,  and  the  house  is  con- 
structed to  provide  ample  room  for 
ease  of  entertainment.  Thus  must 
we  consider  our  life,  and  our  habits, 
when  planning  a  garden. 

No  matter  how  well-planned  and 
planted  a  garden  may  be,  it  falls 
short  of  the  goal  of  good  designing, 
if,  in  the  judgment  of  those  using 
the  garden,  it  fails  to  become  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  dwelling.  No  mat- 
ter then,  how  large  or  small  the 
garden  may  be,  it  should  have  its 
definite  beginning  at  the  house. 

We  hear  many  discussions  about 
the  axis  of  the  garden.    These  may 

have  caused  quite  a  lot  of  confus- 
ion among  the  large  numbers  of 
beginning  gardeners  who  plan  and 
plant  their  own  property.  The 
simplest  explanation  of  what  the 
term  axis  means  and  how  to  adjust 
your  plans  to  its  use,  is  to  regard 
the  axis  as  the  means  whereby  the 
beginning  of  the  garden  is  carried 
on  from  a  source  which  is  an  archi- 
tectural feature  of  the  dwelling. 
Very  often  it  is  desirable  to  lead 
out  from  the  house  with  an  open 
area  of  lawn  which  may  be  either 
oval,  square,  or  circular.  It  may 
appear  that  there  is  no  axis  uniting 
the  indoors  with  the  outdoors.  How- 
ever, if  the  lawn  area  itself  is  recog- 
nized as  a  garden  feature,  that  is, 
sharing  a  common  axis  with  the 
house,  and  it  is  perfectly  balanced 
with  whatever  architectural  features 
give  access  to  the  lawn  area  (a 
porch,  small  patio,  or  just  a  plain 
doorway)  then  the  desired  unity  is 

In  the  informal  garden  no  furth- 
er thought  need  be  given  to  the 
axial  lines  of  the  area  other  than 
to  place  a  feature  such  as  a  bird 
bath,  sundial,  or  a  garden  seat  di- 
rectly in  line  with  the  architectural 
feature  of  the  house  that  gives  access 
to  the  lawn. 

Enclosures  for  the  Garden 

Enclosed  boundary  lines  for  the 
garden  are  necessary  to  make  the 
garden  what  it  was  intended  to  be— 
a  retreat  safe  from  the  eyes  of  the 
public.  The  enclosing  of  the  gar- 
Page  247 



Josef  Muench 


den  may  be  accomplished  in  a  num- 
ber of  ways.  The  use  of  stone  walls 
in  an  area  where  rocks  are  plentiful 
is  one  of  the  oldest,  and  still  one  of 
the  best  ways  of  enclosing  a  garden. 
Use  of  native  rocks  is  recommended 
then,  along  with  the  use  of  bricks 
that  are  of  soft  or  dull  grays  or 

Fences  of  wood  may  be  made  in 
many  new  and  different  patterns. 
Unlike  the  old  board  fences,  today's 
styles  will  provide  the  needed  pri- 
vacy and  at  the  same  time  a  com- 
plete circulation  of  air.  Usually 
the  fences  are  stained  a  nut-brown 
color  rather  than  painted  a  stark 
white,  which  requires  so  much 
labor  to  keep  the  fence  looking  well, 
and  dulls  the  colors  of  flowers  if 
they  are  planted  beside  the  fence. 

Inexpensive  wire  fences  may  be 
used  along  the  boundary  lines.  In 
time  these  may  be  disguised  with 
hedges  or  may  be  covered  with 
climbing  vines  which,  in  their  turn, 
provide   an    excellent   foil   for   the 

colorful  flowers  that  fill  your  bord- 
ers. Flowers  growing  up  into  the 
air  without  a  background  of  green, 
never  quite  show  off  at  their  very 
best.  When  planning  your  garden, 
then,  plan  to  show  your  blooms  to 
the  very  best  advantage. 

Shrubs  planted  along  the  bound- 
ary lines  of  the  garden  make  an 
ideal  enclosure.  Here  the  gardener 
may  have  a  wide  selection  of  ma- 
terial to  use.  Color  and  interest 
may  be  introduced  with  the  use  of 
shrubs  having  a  colorful  bark  that 
shows  to  best  advantage  during  the 
dull  winter  days.  With  the  com- 
ing of  the  flowering  period,  shrubs 
are  weighted  down  with  many  frag- 
rant flowers,  for  a  border  may  have 
its  esthetic  value  as  well  as  serving 
its  utilitarian  purpose  of  enclosing 
the  garden. 

All  the  types  and  styles  of  en- 
closing a  garden  mentioned  also  pro- 

Courtesy  Eudora  Whitson 




vide  the  gardener  with  endless  op- 
portunity to  express  her  own  per- 
sonality. Through  proper  selec- 
tion of  planting  materials  and  use 
of  building  materials,  a  boundary 
line  may  be  achieved  that  is  unlike 
that  in  any  other  garden. 

Arrangement  oi  the  Garden  Area 

Within  the  boundary  lines,  di- 
visions of  the  garden  may  be  made. 
These  are  similar  to  the  divisions 
of  the  rooms  within  your  home; 
just  a  few  well-proportioned  rooms 
in  the  given  area  of  the  home  are 
usually  to  be  preferred  to  many  small 
rooms.  The  garden  area,  then, 
should  be  arranged  to  avoid  small- 
ness  and  the  danger  of  cluttering 
up  the  space.  In  her  enthusiasm, 
a  gardener  may  include  too  wide  a 
variety  of  plants  and  too  many  gar- 
den features.  These  do  not  make  a 
satisfying  and  serene  garden  picture, 
but  result  in  a  cluttered  area  which 
requires  an  unceasing  amount  of 
labor  to  maintain  and  never  quite 
achieves  the  resttul  qualities  so  de- 

In  case  your  garden  area  is  un- 
even, having  different  levels,  do  not 
be  too  anxious  to  haul  in  soil  to 
make  fills,  or  to  smooth  them  out 
for  a  gradual  slope.  Regard  the 
unevenness  as  an  asset  and  plan  to 
make  of  your  garden  a  terraced 
beauty  spot.  Introduce  rock  gard- 
en plants  to  the  area,  using  five  to 
seven  plants  in  a  given  area  to  pro- 
duce a  splotch  of  color  that  is 
pleasing  to  the  eye.  On  steeper 
hills,  a  beautiful  rock  garden  may 
be  attained  by  planting  carefully  w.  Atiee  Burpe7 
many   of    the    rock   garden    plants  ALLDOUBLE   PETUNIAS 

Courtesy  The  Salt  Lake  Tribune 




W.    Atlee    Burpee 


that  thrive  in  your  section  of  the 

The  formal  garden  plan  is  well 
adapted  for  use  in  the  limited 
gardening  space  of  the  city  and 
suburban  lots.  Quite  contrary  to 
the  opinion  of  many  gardeners,  it 
is  much  easier  to  design,  plant,  and 
to  maintain  a  formal  garden  than 
it  is  to  maintain  an  informal  gar- 

The  Formal  Garden 

The  formal  garden  must  always 
proceed  from  the  dwelling,  either 
by  means  of  a  center  axis  projected 
from  a  doorway,  which  may  be 
distant  or  close,  from  the  steps,  or 
by  the  extension  of  wall  lines. 
Symmetry  and  perfect  balance  are 
both  basic  requirements  of  the 
formal  plan. 

The  simplest  example  of  the 
formal  garden  that  it  is  possible  to 
make  is  that  of  the  square  back 
yard  which  is  divided  by  walks, 
which  may  or  may  not  have  a  central 
feature  where  the  paths  cross.  This 
division  by  walks  creates  four  lesser 
squares  in  each  corner  of  the  larger 
area.  The  division  may  go  on 
further,  in  each  case  reducing  the 
size  of  the  squares.  The  separate 
plots  may  be  planted  as  simply  or  as 
elaborately  as  one  wishes,  depending 
upon  the  time  and  the  help  avail- 

For  the  small  home  one  may 
work  out  three  successive  plantings 
for  the  small  formal  garden,  using 
spring  bulbs,  early  summer  annuals 
and,  for  fall  color,  chrysanthemums. 
The  area  should  be  worked  over  and 
enriched  twice  each  year.  This,  in 
turn,  eliminates  much  weeding  and 
cultivation  found  necessary  in  main- 
taining perennial  borders. 

Willard    Luce 




Many  color  schemes  may  be 
worked  out  with  tulips,  and  by  care- 
fully planting  all  the  tulips  the 
same  depth,  they  will  bloom  at  the 
same  time,  providing  they  are  all 
of  the  same  type,  such  as  the  Dar- 
win tulips.  If  unevenness  of  bloom 
of  the  same  types  has  been  experi- 
enced in  the  past,  it  may  be  due  di- 
rectly to  the  fact  that  some  bulbs 
have  been  planted  six  inches  deep 
and  others  only  four  inches  deep. 
Be  sure  to  have  an  ample  supply  of 

forget-me-not  plants  on  hand  to 
use  as  a  ground  cover  for  the  bulb 
beds.  Use  of  violets  for  an  edging 
plant  is  recommended.  Select  va- 
rieties carefully  to  be  sure  all  the 
colors  conform  to  the  desired  color 

For  summer  bloom,  plant  annuals 
just  as  soon  as  the  foliage  of  the 
bulbs  begins  to  grow  and  the 
danger  of  frost  has  passed.  Plant 
them  among  tulip  plants,  and  you 
will  find  that  the  tulip  foliage  will 

Ward  Linton 



serve  as  a  protection  for  the  new  area  to  be  planted  must  be  con- 
plants  being  set  out.  When  the  an-  sidered  and  the  planning  and  plant- 
nuals  begin  to  grow  rapidly,  the  ing  done  accordingly.  In  most  in- 
tulip  foliage  will  be  brown  and  will  stances  the  informal  garden  is  one 
gradually  disappear  from  sight.  It  that  is  planned  and  planted  very 
is  suggested  that  a  combination  of  carefully  to  resemble  as  nearly  as 
pink  and  blue  and  white  be  tried  possible  the  very  casual  plantings 
in  the  small  formal  garden.  Use  made  by  Mother  Nature, 
pink  petunias,  blue  lobelias,  blue  There  is  no  rule,  for  example,  that 
ageratum,  and  white  sweet  alyssum  says  that  roses  must  be  planted  in 
for  a  colorful  display  that  will  last  a  formally  designed  garden;  they 
you  well.  However,  in  making  this  may  be  enjoyed  just  as  much  and 
garden  be  sure  you  keep  in  mind  cared  for  just  as  easily  if  they  are 
the  fact  that  before  the  summer  is  grown  in  rows  as  are  vegetables,  and 
past  the  small  garden  of  annuals  the  position  of  the  garage  on  your 
will  become  very  monotonous,  and  lot  may  force  you  to  plant  your 
do  make  some  provision  for  a  sup-  roses  behind  the  garage  because  it 
ply  of  chrysanthemums  either  all  of  is  the  only  place  that  receives  the 
one  color  or  of  an  assortment  of  six  hours  of  sunlight  that  are  so 
colors  to  be  planted  in  the  beds  as  necessary  for  the  successful  culture 
soon  as  the  annuals  are  spent.  Plants  of  roses. 

should  be  evenly  spaced,  and  if  the  Great  freedom  is  allowed  in  the 

soil  is  properly  enriched  and  tend-  selection  of  shrubs  and  flowers  for 

ed,  excellent  results  with  a  small  the  informal  garden,  and  it  is  pos- 

amount  of  labor  will  be  yours.  sible  to  develop  a  garden  around 

Roses  do  exceptionally  well  in  a  one  kind  of  plant,  using  many  dif- 

formal  garden.    Here  one  may  use  ferent  varieties  of  the  plant.  Thus 

almost  any  color  scheme.     If  the  an    informal    garden    lends    itself 

divisions  of  beds  are  small  enough  well  to  the  wishes  of  the  gardener 

one  may  fill  each  bed  with  a  dif-  who    specializes    in    one    kind    of 

ferent  colored  rose,  having  one  sec-  plant. 

tion    all    of    red    roses,    one    all  in    tfie    perennial    border    the 

of  pink,  one  of  white,  and  perhaps  piants  come  ;nto  flower  as  others 

a  square  of  vari-colored  roses.  Roses  fa(je  away?  presenting  to  the  gard- 

are  easily  cared  for  in  formal  beds,  ener  an  ever-changing  picture  that 

and  make  a  radiant  display  of  bios-  provides  interest  and  a  challenge  to 

soms-  try    new    and    different    combina- 

The  Informal  Garden  In  arid  lands,  where  weekly  ir- 

Now  we  come  to  the  informal  rigations  are  necessary  to  insure  the 

garden.     There  is  no  standard  or  growth    of   the   plant,    we   find   a 

stock  informal  garden  plan  which  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  gard- 

can  be  used  for  any  and  every  gard-  ener  to  grow  perennials  in  straight 

en,  rather  the  peculiarities  of  each  rows  without  regard  to  color  mass- 


es,  or  perhaps  a  plant  put  in  here  every    kind    you    ever    have   heard 

and  there  without  pattern,  result-  about.    Then  the  desired  splash  of 

ing  in  a  hodgepodge  of  plants.  Per-  color  is  attained, 

ennials  should  never  be  planted  in  To  be  easily  handled,  a  perennial 

this  manner.     Rather  they  should  border  should  not  be  wider  than 

be  planted  in  groups  of  three  or  five  feet,  unless  stepping  stones  are 

five,  or  seven  to  nine  plants,  where  placed    in    the   back    part    of    the 

they  can  give  an  excellent  account-  border  to  enable  the  gardener  to 

ing  of  themselves  at  the  blooming  wa]k  along  on  the  stones      Plants 

Penod-  must  be  fed,  watered,  sprayed,  and 

staked  up.     Even  though,  through 

Flowers  ioi  Boideis  necessity,  you  must  use  small  fur- 

The    tallest    plants    should    be  rQWS  to  j.    te                  den? 

planted   towards   the    back   or   the  ^                a   4-u       -lu  i  „* 

|      ,                  .  ni        ,      , ,  can,  with  care  and  thoughtful  at- 

border,     especially     should     peren-  '                ,                    \ P         , ;    , 

•  i        j.1.         j  /  t        -u          j     j.  tention,  so  place  your  plants  that 

nials  with  good  foliage  be  used  at  . r                  F    T      j 

the  back.     Some  of  them   should  you  can  eiW  masses  of  color  dur" 

extend  a  little  into  the  front  of  the  in§  the  flowering  season. 

border  especially  in  the  wider  parts  Midsummer  need  no  longer  see 

of  the  border.    This  provides  inter-  your  garden  colorless  and  simmering 

est  and  removes  the  danger  of  mo-  in  the  heat,  for,  with  the  wide  de- 

notony.     Hollyhocks,  delphiniums,  velopment   of   new   day   lilies  and 

Thalictrum  glacum,  spuria  iris,  and  perennial  phlox,  we  may  have  the 

Siberian  iris,  are  excellent  selections  most  striking  displays  of  color  dur- 

for  the  back  of  the  border.  ing  the  hottest  days  of  the  year. 

There  is  a  wide  selection  of  dwarf  The  day  lily,  common  corn  lily,  or 

evergreen   edging  plants  that  may  tawny    lily    of    our    grandmothers' 

be  used  for  the  front  of  the  border,  day,  have  taken  a  new  size  and  many 

including  the  large  family  of  pinks  enchanting    new    colors    in    recent 

whose    foliage    is    good    the    year  years.     Along  with  the  other  fine 

around.    Heuchera  sanguinea,  Iber-  qualities,  you  may  add  that  they 

is  sempervirens,  and  some  of  the  are  quite  free  of  pests.     Perennial 

Sedums  may  be  used.  phlox   should   be   planted   with   a 

In  the  intermediate  part  of  the  generous  hand, 

border  may  be  planted  daisies,  from  In  years  past  the  first  frost  black- 

the  very  earliest  blooming  doroni-  ened  our  tender  plants,  thus  end- 

cums,   commonly  known   as   leop-  ing    the   gorgeous    displays    out-of- 

ard's  bane,  and  the  many  different  doors.  Not  so  anymore,  for,  with 

Pyrethrums,  on  down  a  long  and  the  increased  interest  in  gardening, 

imposing  list  of  white  daisies  pro-  we  find  that  the  plant  hybridizers 

duced  by  the  industrious  plant  hy-  have  provided  for  our  selection  an 

bridizers.  almost    endless    array    of    colorful 

It  is  wiser  to  use  only  a  few  dif-  chrysanthemums  that  will  last  until 

ferent  kinds  of  flowers  in  masses  the  chill  winds  of  November  drive 

than  to  try  to  grow  one  plant  of  even  the  hardiest  gardener  indoors. 

cJhe  Second  Spring 

Elsie  Sim  Hansen 

SPRING  slips  over  the  hills  into  Southern  California  almost  before  February  has 
left  the  calendar,  bringing  with  her  the  fragrant  aroma  of  millions  of  orange  blos- 
soms dancing  on  the  wings  of  each  gentle  breeze. 

The  beds  of  ranunculus,  stocks,  and  begonias  make  one  think  that  a  rainbow 
must  have  come  to  rest  on  the  warm  earth.  The  flowering  shrubs  and  trees,  stealing 
their  delicate  hues  from  the  first  rosy  pink  of  an  early  dawn,  spread  in  a  panorama  of 
color  in  every  direction. 

Yes,  nature  had  really  prepared  a  banquet  of  beauty  from  which  we  were  per- 
mitted to  feast,  as  if  she  knew  this  would  be  the  last  spring  our  family  would  spend 
in  California. 

One  day,  when  it  seemed  our  lady  spring  could  no  longer  be  the  center  of  attrac- 
tion, my  husband  came  home  and  announced  that  his  company  was  transferring  him 
to  another  state. 

We  arrived  in  our  new  home  about  the  middle  of  April,  just  in  time  to  be 
smothered  in  billowy  clouds  of  apricot  blossoms.  Neat  brick  homes  were  set  in  frames 
of  scarlet  tulips,  golden  daffodils,  and  giant  pansies,  with  tiny  white  ribbon  bows  of 
lily-of-the-valley  tied  in  every  corner. 

Nature,  with  her  magic  wand,  was  turning  the  newly  planted  vegetable  gardens 
into  patches  of  living  green. 

Later  in  the  spring,  while  I  was  picking  some  luscious  red  strawberries,  the  thought 
came  to  me — how  fortunate  Steve  and  I  were,  not  only  because  we  had  seen  nature 
in  all  her  majesty  awakening  the  sleeping  things  of  the  earth  from  their  winter  nap 
twice  in  one  year,  but  how,  as  parents,  we  were  really  living  a  second  spring  every  year 
through  the  lives  of  our  children.  Obedience,  faith  in  God,  and  charity  are  the  flowers 
we  are  planting  in  the  garden  of  their  characters,  so  that  when  the  springtime  of  their 
lives  has  passed,  they  may  stand  like  sturdy  oaks  in  the  garden  of  their  tomorrows. 



Vesta  N.  Lukei 

Awake,  my  love,  and  climb  the  hill 
While  all   the  earth  lies  cool  and   still. 
Come,  catch  the  fragrance  of  the  breeze 
Through  dew-fresh  groves  of  citrus  trees. 
Oh,  hear  the  morning  meadow  lark 
And  watch  the  mountain  shadows,   dark 
And  purple,  silent,  slide  away 
Before  the  spreading  gold  of  day. 
These  perfect  moments  shared  will   start 
A  day-long  singing  in  my  heart 
And  be  a  talisman  until 
We  climb  again  adventure's  hill. 

Page  254 

Spring  Showing 

Ouida  J.  Pedersen 

His  mother  apprehensively, 
His  father  with  marked  pride, 
Present  the  fourth-year  model 
Of  a  snub-nosed  son;  bird-eyed 
With  eagerness,  brown  hands 
Chapped  with  weather, 
Rumpled  shirt  and  breeches 
That  won't  quite  stay  together, 
Shabby  cap  precarious 
On  wind-tousled  head  .  .  . 
Unlimited  capacity 
For  storing  jam  and  bread. 

Dear  Conquest 

Part  II 
Deone  R.  Sutherland 

Synopsis:  Maggie  Sullivan,  young  and 
beautiful,  comes  to  Oakville  as  a  high 
school  teacher  and  attends  the  Deer 
Hunters'  Ball  with  Charlie  Kirkenson,  a 
lawyer,  and  meets  a  rancher,  Ira  Scott. 
Ira  plans  a  wiener  roast  on  Indian  Moun- 
tain and  invites  Maggie  and  a  number 
of  her  friends  to  his  cabin  for  the  party. 

THE  ride  to  Indian  Mountain 
was  especially  lovely  in  the 
fall.  Maggie's  hair  gleamed 
in  front  of  us  in  the  last  of  the 
evening  light.  We  had  our  heavy 
jackets,  but  Ira  said  we  would  use 
the  cabin  if  it  got  too  chilly.  My 
John  balanced  the  three-layer  cake 
on  his  knee.  Ira  turned  into  the 
narrow  winding  road  up  the  steep 

"Well,  I  expect  you  chose  the 
best  site  around  for  a  cabin/'  said 
My  John,  with  appreciation,  when 
we  finally  stopped  the  car. 

"I  hope  to  have  more  time  to  use 
it  this  winter,"  said  Ira.  'The  ranch 
house  is  bleak  enough  in  summer, 
without  having  to  stay  there  the 
whole  winter." 

"You  got  enough  men,  it  seems 
to  me,  to  run  things  in  the  winter 
pretty  well/'  said  Annie,  getting 
out  of  the  car.  "I  keep  telling  Ira 
he  should  just  move  in  with  us  dur- 
ing the  winter  and  relax  a  little. 
He  certainly  isn't  getting  any 

Maggie  had  followed  Ira  out  of 
the  car,  and  stood  looking  down  in- 
to the  valley  while  we  were  talking. 
She  wore  a  soft,  blue  wool  jacket, 
and  her  curly  hair  looked  sweetly 

colorful  above  it.  Ira  stood  by  her, 
following  her  eyes.  Her,  "It  is  beau- 
tiful," we  scarcely  heard.  But  I 
could  see  Ira's  face  relax  when  she 

The  best  room  in  the  cabin  was 
the  living  room.  It  went  the  length 
of  the  cabin  and  contained  mostly 
fireplace  and  books  and,  of  course, 
Ira's  desk  where  he  worked.  I  had 
never  thought  much  of  Ira  being  a 
reader  until  Maggie  stood  looking 
at  the  rows  of  books.  But  then  the 
party  was  starting,  and  the  fire  was 
roaring  outside.  We  could  come  in 
to  a  fire  in  the  fireplace  when  it  got 
colder  later  on. 

"Perhaps  we  could  have  the 
'Sing'  inside,"  decided  Annie. 

Andy  Gillis  and  Allie  Peterson 
handed  out  the  sticks  for  the  roast, 
and  the  smell  of  sweet  ears  of  corn 
was  in  the  air. 

"I've  never  been  so  hungry," 
sniffed  Maggie. 

"All  you  have  to  do  to  endear 
you  to  a  host  or  hostess  here  in 
Oakville  is  to  say  you're  hungry," 
laughed  Annie  bustling  around.  She 
was  especially  excited  over  Ira  tak- 
ing time  out  to  mix  with  folks  a 
little,  I  thought. 

I  got  a  funny  feeling  watching  Ira 
across  the  fire  after  the  main  eating 
was  over.  He'd  always  been  some- 
one who  had  to  know  and  get  what 
he  wanted.  And  there  he  stood 
with  a  foot  on  a  log  listening  to  the 
others  sing,  but  his  glance  kept  com- 
ing again  and  again  to  Maggie  in 
the  burnishing  firelight. 

Page   255 



It  was  too  bad  Charlie  had  had 
to  go  back  to  River  City  today.  It 
would  be  a  relief  to  have  him  back 
next  week-end.  Maggie  would  be 
busy  with  schoolteaching  all  week. 
Why,  she  had  only  met  Ira  Scott 
the  night  before,  and  the  times  Ira 
Scott  had  appeared  at  socials  in 
Oakville  in  the  last  three  or  four 
years  you  could  count  on  one  hand. 
I  was  getting  old  to  encourage 
needless  fears. 

"This  is  the  very  best  evening  I 
have  ever  had,"  said  Maggie,  sighing, 
as  Ira  made  sure  the  fire  was  out. 

My  John  was  yawning  in  the 

"We'll  come  up  tomorrow  and 
clean  for  you,  Ira,"  said  Annie,  car- 
rying things  down  to  her  car. 

"All  right."  Ira  was  still  kneeling 
at  the  fire.  "I  appreciate  all  your 
help,  Annie." 

"I  loved  doing  it."  Her  voice  was 
muffled  from  leaning  over  in  the 
car.  She  straightened  up.  "I'd  do 
lots  more  if  you'd  let  me,  Ira." 

John  came  down  the  steps,  carry- 
ing my  cake  plate. 

Maggie  watched  the  last  ember 
sizzle  into  nothing.  "It's  so  sad  put- 
ting out  the  fire.  I  almost  wish  I'd 
left  before." 

"Yes,"  I  answered  Maggie,  "it's 
too  cold  for  another  mountain  party 
this  year.  This  is  probably  the 
last."  I  climbed  into  Ira's  car  be- 
side My  John. 

"But  the  place  for  the  fire  stays 
there,"  said  Ira.  "Next  spring  .  .  .  ." 
he  began,  and  then  he  stopped. 
"Shall  we  go?"  He  opened  Mag- 
gie's door,  and  we  began  the  long 
winding  ride  down  the  mountain- 
side. I  steeled  myself  not  to  be 
nervous  about  going  down  the  jutty 

lane  in  the  dark.  I  wondered  how 
Maggie  could  always  be  so  relaxed. 
I  followed  her  eyes  and  watched 
the  dark,  looming  blackness  that 
meant  trees  and  underbrush  move 
past  the  car.  I  began  to  feel  easy 
with  Ira  driving. 

ONE  afternoon  after  the  first 
heavy  snowfall,  Maggie  helped 
little  Alma  Short  build  a  snowman 
in  his  back  yard  which  was  next  to 

"I  think  you're  havin'  more  fun 
than  Alma,"  My  John  called  over. 

"I  am!"  shouted  Maggie. 

Charlie  Kirkenson  came  before 
the  snowman  was  finished.  He  stood 
on  a  gunny  sack  on  my  back  porch 
and  shook  off  the  snow  while  he 
laughed  at  Maggie. 

"Oh,  I  am  late,"  panted  Maggie 
apologetically  when  she  came  run- 
ning home. 

I  opened  my  oven  door  and  bast- 
ed Archie,  the  duck,  once  more. 

"Don't  do  that  again,"  called 
Charlie.  "I  can't  stand  it.  I'll  faint 
from  hunger." 

"It's  only  wanting  someone  to 
eat  it,"  I  called  back,  closing  the 
oven,  checking  the  top  of  the  stove, 
and  giving  an  eye  to  my  dining 
room  table. 

Maggie  darted  upstairs,  and  in  a 
moment  was  down  again  in  a  green 
wool  dress.  Melted  snow  crystals 
still  glistened  occasionally  in  her 
short  hair. 

"The  snow  makes  your  color 
good,"  said  My  John  to  Maggie. 

"The  oven  makes  mine,"  I  said 

"That  it  does,"  laughed  My  John. 

We  sat  down  to  dinner,  and  My 
John  blessed  the  food.     Then  he 



began  carving  the  duck  and  filling 
my  best  bluebird  plates. 

"In  no  time  at  all  you'll  have  to 
go  to  school  on  snowshoes,"  said 
Charlie  to  Maggie.  "Will  you  like 

"I'll  love  it,"  declared  Maggie, 

"And  I  won't  be  able  to  get  in  to 
see  you  for  a  few  months.  Will  you 
like  that,  Maggie?" 

"Not  very  much,"  laughed  Mag- 
gie, "but  I'll  probably  survive." 

"You're  heartless,"  said  Charlie, 
and  he  speared  his  duck. 

They  left  Charlie's  car  in  front 
and  walked  down  to  the  PaJace 
through  the  snow.  My  John  and 
I  were  still  up  when  they  came 

"We  couldn't  even  stop  for  a 
soda,"  Charlie  explained.  "I'm 
afraid  of  getting  snowed  in  up  here 
if  the  snow  keeps  falling.  I'll  have 
to  start  right  away  for  River  City, 
I  guess." 

"Be  careful,"  cautioned  Maggie. 

"You  wouldn't  like  to  go  to  River 
City  with  me  sometime?"  asked 
Charlie.  "It's  a  nice  city  to  live 

"I  don't  think  so,"  said  Maggie. 
She  stopped  unwinding  her  yellow 
scarf.  "I  like  Oakville." 

"I  hear  my  competition's  more 
than  just  Oakville,  Maggie."  Char- 
lie was  smiling,  but  his  hands  were 
unsteady  on  the  buttons  of  his  over- 

"That's  right,"  said  Maggie  in  a 
very  low  voice. 

My  John  rustled  his  newspaper 
very  loudly,  and  Maggie  and  Char- 
lie quit  looking  at  each  other.  Mag- 
gie went  to  the  door  with  Charlie. 
She  came  back  alone  and  fumbled 

with  my  lace  parlor  curtains.  She 
looked  out  at  the  snow. 

"I'm  an  interfering  old  woman," 
I  began,  "but  Charlie  is  one  of  the 
nicest  young  men  a  body  could 
hope  to  meet  anywhere  this  side  of 

"Yes,"  said  Maggie  sincerely,  and 
then  she  said  good  night  and  went 
upstairs  to  bed. 

TT    wasn't    long    before    Maggie 

almost  did  need  snowshoes  to  get 
to  the  school.  But  Brother  Isaac- 
son brought  his  four  children  to  the 
school  right  past  our  place,  and  he 
said  one  more  on  the  "go-devil" 
wouldn't  hurt  anything.  So  Mag- 
gie rode  there  and  back  with  them, 
unless  she  stayed  late  and  walked 
home,  which  she  liked  to  do. 

Ira  Scott  came  in  from  the  ranch 
a  few  times,  and  when  he  did  he 
unloaded  at  Annie's  and  then  came 
straight  to  our  place.  Ira  would  sit 
in  the  living  room  sometimes  and 
talk  to  My  John  about  cattle.  Mag- 
gie would  curl  up  in  an  armchair 
by  the  fire  and  knit.  Sometimes  they 
hardly  spoke  a  word  to  each  other 
the  whole  evening.  Ira  took  Maggie 
sleigh  riding,  and  then  he  asked 
her  to  go  skiing  up  Eagle's  Peak. 

"Do  you  know  how  to  ski,  Mag- 
gie?" I  asked.  I  wrapped  up  cold 
turkey  sandwiches  for  them  to  take. 

"Yes,"  said  Maggie,  "but  don't 
tell  Ira.  I'm  going  to  let  him  teach 
me."  Her  eyes  twinkled. 

Ira  had  everything  packed  on  the 
sleigh  when  he  came  for  Maggie. 
He  stood  in  the  front  hall  waiting 
while  Maggie  adjusted  her  blue  cap 
and  drew  on  her  long  mittens.  He 
looked  long  and  thin  and  a  little 
lonely,  watching  Maggie  when  he 



thought  no  one  was  watching  him. 
I  felt  a  brief  pang  of  sympathy  for 
Ira.  Maybe  he  didn't  always  get 
just  what  he  wanted. 

"I'm  sorry  our  skiing  days  are 
over/'  I  said  to  My  John  while  I 
watched  Ira  cover  Maggie  in  the 

"I'm  not,"  grunted  My  John 
comfortably,  "and  don't  say,  Isn't 
that  just  like  a  man'?"  He  smiled  at 
me  as  I  went  by. 

"I  think  I'll  start  my  pre-Christ- 
mas  cleaning,"  I  said  energetically. 

TRA  and  Maggie  went  out  and  got 

our  tree  and  set  it  up.  The  night 
before  Christmas  Eve  Ira  came  and 
they  both  trimmed  it.  Ira  had  moved 
into  Annie's  for  the  holidays.  We 
had  all  gone  to  the  schoolhouse  for 
a  Christmas  program  and  party  a 
few  nights  before  Christmas  Eve. 
We  always  went  to  the  church  for 
Christmas  Eve.  Maggie's  stepmoth- 
er had  sent  her  a  beautiful  blue 
dress  of  the  softest  wool  I'd  ever 
seen,  all  trimmed  in  tiny  silver 
buckles  and  a  box  of  silver  jewelry 
to  go  with  it.  I  had  crocheted 
Maggie  a  lace  tablecloth,  which  I 
planned  on  slipping  under  the  tree 
after  everyone  set  out  for  the 

The  people  were  already  singing 
Christmas  carols  when  I  reached 
the  church. 

"Who's  the  Santa  Claus?"  I  whis- 
pered to  Annie  when  the  jingling 
of  bells  announced  the  arrival  from 
the  North  Pole. 

"It's  Ira,"  whispered  Annie.  "I 
know,  you're  as  surprised  as  I  am." 

I  was  too  surprised  to  say  any- 
thing. But  he  did  his  part  well, 
laughing,  calling  out  the  names,  his 

voice  going  a  little  lower  when  he 
called  Maggie's.  None  of  the  chil- 
dren guessed  him,  and  when  he 
came  back  later  in  his  own  clothes 
it  seemed  natural  for  him  to  be  com- 
ing late.  He  and  Maggie  came  over 
and  sat  by  us. 

We  ate  popcorn  balls  and  list- 
ened to  the  Christmas  program. 
Maggie  played  the  piano  for  the 
singing  and  then  played  a  solo. 
When  she  finished,  she  came  back 
and  sat  beside  Ira.  They  smiled  at 
each  other,  leaving  all  the  room  be- 
hind. I  reached  over  and  took  My 
John's  hand.  He  was  so  startled,  he 

We  opened  the  presents  after  we 
got  back  from  church.  Maggie  gave 
John  a  white  nylon  shirt  and  me  a 
flannel  nightgown  with  matching 
slippers  and  robe.  I  was  so  pleased 
all  I  could  do  was  blush. 

Maggie  opened  the  tablecloth  and 
admired  it.  She  tried  it  out  on  my 
table,  and  then  sat  holding  it.  "It's 
very  beautiful,"  she  said.  "I  love  it 
because  you  made  it,  actually  made 
it."  She  exclaimed  so  over  things 
we  made  with  our  hands.  As  if  that 
was  one  of  the  secrets  for  happiness 
she  was  just  discovering. 

T  brought  in  the  candy  Maggie  and 

I  had  made  together  for  Christ- 
mas, and  My  John  passed  the  nuts 
and  fruit. 

"This  is  a  holiday,"  Maggie  said, 
"I  won't  knit  tonight." 

Ira  fixed  the  fire  until  the  flames 
roared  in  the  chimney. 

"Will  you  play  the  piano  again, 
Maggie?"  Ira  asked. 

So  Maggie  put  on  her  coat  and 
opened  the  door  into  the  little  chil- 
ly parlor.    She  and  Ira  opened  the 


piano,  and  Maggie  played  from  help  but  be  lonely  and  maybe  hard. 
Peer  Gynt;  then  she  played  some  Ira's  older  and  harder  and  not  like- 
Beethoven  and  Bach,  and  it  all  ly  to  change  very  much  from  what 
sounded  exactly  right.  My  John  he's  been.  People  have  to  keep 
began  to  yawn,  while  I  began  to  changing  all  the  time  when  they're 
doze.  It  was  a  few  minutes  before  married  .  .  .  they  have  to  .  .  .  ." 
I  could  make  myself  come  awake  Maggie  looked  up  at  me  then 
enough  to  realize  the  music  had  with  eyes  so  bright  that  the  words 
stopped.  I  turned  my  head  toward  faltered  on  my  lips.  I  didn't  know 
the  parlor.  Maggie  was  standing  by  what  I  was  trying  to  tell  her  any- 
the  piano,  and  Ira,  Ira  was  standing  way. 

by  Maggie  cradling  her  head  in  his  "You  mean,"  asked    Maggie,  "it 

hands,   holding  her  face  as   if  he  might  be  harder  with  Ira?" 

would  never  stop  looking.  "Yes,  I  guess  so,"  I  said. 

It  couldn't  have  been  as  long  as  "I  don't  want  it  easy,"  Maggie 

it  seemed  for  me  to  force  myself  said  fiercely.    "I  want  it  real.    I  want 

to  drop  my  head  without  a  sound,  it  to  be  the  realest  thing  that  has 

They  tiptoed  out  of  the  parlor,  and  ever  happened  to  me.     If  there's 

I  heard  them  saying  good  night  in  any  meaning  in  my  life,  I'll  find  it 

the  front  hall.     Maggie  shut  the  through  Ira  .  .  .  ." 

door,  and  then  she  just  stayed  stand-  My  John  stood  in  the  doorway, 

ing  there.    I  got  up  and  went  into  "Well,  who's  making  all  the  speech- 

the  parlor  and  closed  down  the  pi-  es?    When  are  we  going  to  get  to 

ano.    I  shut  the  parlor  door  behind  congratulate  you  and  Ira,  Maggie?" 

me.     My  John  slept  peacefully  in  Maggie  smiled  gently.     "Now," 

his  chair.     I  moved  into  the  hall  she  said.     She  held  out  her  hand 

where  Maggie  still  stood.  to  us,  and  I  saw  the  flash  of  a  dia- 

"Maggie,"  I  said,  "Ira's  not  had  mond.    "Ira  and  I  are  going  to  be 

much  of  a  happy  life.    I  guess  he's  married  in  the  spring." 

missed  most  of  the  joys,  but,  never-  My  eyes  began  to  mist  as  I  kissed 

theless,  there's  no  good  reason  for  her,  but  hers  were  bright  and  so 

you  to  want  to  break  someone  like  happy  I  felt  a  catch  in  my  heart. 

Charlie's  heart  for  a  life  that  can't  (To  be  continued) 

sbaster    II lorning 

Eunice  /.  Miles 

The  darkened  hope,  the  hidden  glory, 
Stand  revealed  on  Easter  morn, 
When  human  limitations  vanish, 
And  consciousness  of  soul  is  bom. 
Then  Christ  reveals  himself  to  men, 
And  hope  eternal  dawns  again. 


c/wo  uioootes —  f i taste  ana    I Leealecraft 

Sarah  Ann  Boice  Ames  Preece  Serves  Her  Church  and  Community  and  Makes 

Her  Friends  and  Relatives  Happy 

Sarah  Ann  Boice  Ames  Preece,  of  Richmond,  Utah,  eighty-three  years  old,  is  a 
musician  and  a  homemaker  who  uses  her  time  and  talents  for  service  to  others.  She 
plays  the  piano,  violin,  and  banjo,  and  sings  beautifully,  even  at  her  advanced  age. 
For  family  reunions,  Relief  Society  socials,  Family  Hours,  and  community  enter- 
tainments Mrs.  Preece  is  in  great  demand.  Her  favorite  tunes  are:  "Haste  to  the  Wed- 
ding"; "Rock  Creek";  "The  Love  Waltz";  and  "The  Waltz  You  Saved  For  Me."  She 
has  played  the  music  for  many  dances,  and,  in  December  1951,  she  and  two  of  her 
daughters  furnished  the  music  for  a  dance  in  Richmond. 

In  addition  to  her  musical  talents,  Mrs.  Preece  is  an  excellent  reader  and 
elocutionist,  being  particularly  expert  in  presenting  humorous  recitations.  She  is  also 
an  excellent  needlewoman  and  makes  fancy  quilts,  knitted  capes,  stoles,  and  shawls. 
She  crochets  doilies  of  many  intricate  patterns  and  makes  colorful  crocheted  rugs.  Her 
homemade  bread  is  famous  in  her  community,  and  her  recipes  are  treasured  by  many 
friends  and  relatives. 

Of  pioneer  heritage,  Mrs.  Preece  is  the  daughter  of  the  first  couple  ever  married 
in  Oxford,  Idaho,  and  her  grandmother  was  the  first  woman  of  her  handcart  company 
to  enter  the  Salt  Lake  Valley.  A  widow,  she  had  requested  permission  from  the  com- 
pany  captain  to  begin  her  journey  each  morning  a  little  earlier  than  the  others,  as  she 
had  so  many  young  children  to  push  in  the  handcart.  Thus  she  was  the  first  to  be 
greeted  by  the  scouts  whom  Brigham  Young  had  sent  out  to  meet  the  company,  and 
they  escorted  the  young  widow  into  the  Valley.  Mrs.  Preece  is  the  mother  of  nine 
children,  and  she  has  220  descendants. 

Page  260 

cXow-Cos/    1 1  teat  and  d^/ther  iProtetn   UJishes 

EIna  Miller 

Extension  Nutritionist,  Utah  State  Agricultural  College  Extension  Service 
Received  Through  the  Utah  Nutrition  Council 

Y^UR  family  needs  foods  which  three-fourths  of  their  protein  sup- 
are  high  in  proteins  to  build  and  ply  comes  from  animal  foods  and 
repair  the  soft  tissues  of  their  bodies,  the  other  one-fourth  from  plant 
The  soft  tissues  include  blood  and  food.  Other  adults  may  be  well 
muscles.  Along  with  the  good  qual-  nourished  with  half  their  protein 
ity  protein  foods,  you  need  those  supply  from  plant  sources  and  half 
which  are  high  in  minerals  and  vita-  from  animal  foods, 
mins  to  help  with  the  building  and  Recent  research  in  nutrition 
regulating  of  strong,  healthy  bodies,  proves  that  our  bodies  function  best 
You  also  need  foods  which  provide  when  the  protein  supply  is  divided 
the  calories  for  your  daily  energy  equally  among  the  three  meals, 
needs.  This  newer  research  shows  also  that 

We  find  our  best  quality  proteins  we  make  much  better  use  of  the 

in  animal  foods.  Milk,  cheese,  eggs,  proteins  from  plant  foods  when  they 

lean  meat,  including  liver  and  other  are  eaten  at  the  same  meal  with 

organs,  as  well  as  fish  and  poultry,  proteins  from  animal  foods,  even 

are  high  in  the  best  quality  proteins,  though  the  amount  of  the  animal 

Soy  beans  and  other  dried  beans,  protein  food  is  small.  A  glass  of 
peas,  and  lentils,  whole  wheat  and  milk  taken  with  a  peanut  butter 
wheat  germ,  peanuts  and  peanut  sandwich  will  improve  the  quality 
butter,  are  our  best  plant  sources  of  the  proteins  in  the  peanut  butter, 
of  good  proteins.  These  foods  may  Variety  meats  such  as  liver,  kid- 
be  used  to  supplement  the  higher  neys,  heart,  and  tongue  are  usually 
quality  proteins  from  animal  foods,  much  less  expensive  than  are  the 
but  not  to  replace  them.  muscle  meats.    They  also  are  high 

Children     and     expectant     and  in  proteins  as  well  as  in  minerals 

nursing  mothers  get  along  best  when  and  vitamins. 

Variety  Meat  Recipes 

Liver  Loaf 
(Use  beef,  pork,  lamb,  or  veal  liver) 

1  Vi   lbs.  liver  1       tsp.   salt 

2  slices  bacon  1       c.  cracker  crumbs 

1  medium  onion  i  Vi   c.   liquid 

2  eggs  Vi   c.  catsup 

Cook  liver  slowly  five  minutes  in  water  to  cover.  Save  the  liquid.  Put  liver 
through  food  chopper  with  bacon  and  onions.  Add  all  other  ingredients  except  the 
catsup.  Tomato  juice,  milk,  bouillon  or  liquid  in  which  the  liver  was  cooked  may 
be  used  for  moisture.  Mix  thoroughly.  Pour  the  catsup  into  a  well-oiled  loaf  pan. 
Pack  meat  mixture  over  catsup.  Bake  in  a  moderate  oven  (35o°F.)  for  i  hour. 
Serves  8. 

Page    261 


beef  tongue 
water  to  cover 










6  small 




Spiced  Tongue  Slices 

2  bay  leaves 
12  whole  peppers 
2  c.  sugar 
2  c.  vinegar 
2  c.  water 


Wash  tongue.  Cover  with  salted  water.  Add  the  celery  and  spices.  Cook 
slowly  until  tender,  about  one  hour  per  pound.  Skin  and  slice.  Cook  sugar,  vinegar, 
and  2  cups  water  10  minutes.  Pour  over  tongue.  Add  onions.  Store  in  cool  place 
and  use  as  desired.    Serves  8. 

Tongue  Shortcake 

Place  slices  of  leftover  tongue  on  pieces  of  split  hot  corn  bread  and  top  with  hot 
condensed  mushrooms  or  tomato  soup. 

Heart  Fricassee 
(Use  beef,  pork,  or  veal  heart) 

i       small  beef  heart,  3  pork  hearts,  2  tsp.  salt 

or  2  veal  hearts  Vz  c.  sliced  onion 

flour  1  c.  diced  carrots 

lA   c.  bacon  drippings  or  lard  1  c.  canned  tomatoes 

Wash  the  heart  and  trim  off  hard  parts,  if  necessary.  Slice  across  grain.  Dredge 
in  flour  and  brown  in  bacon  drippings.  Season.  Add  onion  and  brown.  Add  carrots 
and  tomatoes  and  cover  tightly.  Simmer  about  1  Vz  to  2  Vz  hours,  or  until  tender. 
Serves  6  to  8. 

Recipes  for  Dried  Beans,  Peas,  and  Lentils 

The  "bean  family"  recipes  which  follow  are  made  with  the  addition  of  a  small 
amount  of  lean  meat,  eggs,  milk,  or  cheese.  This  small  addition  of  protein  foods  from 
animal  sources  makes  the  proteins  from  the  dried  beans,  peas,  or  lentils  much  more 
valuable.  Dried  peas  or  lentils  may  be  used  in  place  of  dried  beans  in  any  of  the 
following  recipes. 

Cook  the  dried  beans  or  dried  peas  this  way: 

Look  over  the  beans  or  peas  and  wash  carefully.  Cover  2  cups  of  dried  beans  or 
peas  with  one  quart  of  cold  water,  and  soak  overnight  or  5  or  6  hours  in  lukewarm 

When  ready  to  cook,  add  a  teaspoon  of  salt  and  simmer  slowly  in  the  soaking 
water,  in  a  covered  pan,  until  the  beans  are  tender  but  not  broken.  Add  more  water 
during  the  cooking,  if  necessary.  You  can  add  flavor  by  cooking  beans  with  salt  pork, 
sausage,  bacon,  or  a  ham  bone. 

Beans  With  Frankfurters 

Cut  frankfurters  in  half  lengthwise  and  arrange  on  top  of  cooked  beans  in  a  shal- 
low baking  dish.    Bake  in  a  moderate  oven  until  the  frankfurters  are  hot. 



Bean  Sausages 

Mash  3  cups  of  cooked  beans;  mix  well  with  Vz  cup  of  bread  crumbs,  2  beaten  eggs, 
1  teaspoon  of  sage,  if  desired,  and  salt  and  pepper  to  taste.  Moisten  with  milk  or  bean 
liquid.  Shape  into  the  form  of  sausages,  dip  in  raw  egg  beaten  with  a  little  water,  then 
roll  in  bread  crumbs.  Brown  in  a  little  melted  fat. 

Dried  Pea,  Bean,  or  Lentil  Soup 

Wash  one  cup  of  dried  beans  or  dried  peas,  or  lentils,  and  soak  overnight  in  1 
quart  of  water.  In  the  morning,  add  a  quart  of  water,  XA  pound  of  salt  pork,  an  onion, 
and  a  few  stalks  of  celery,  if  desired.  Simmer  until  the  beans,  peas,  or  lentils  are 
tender.  Remove  the  salt  pork  and  rub  the  rest  through  a  strainer  if  you  want  a 
smooth  soup.  Cut  the  salt  pork  into  tiny  pieces.  Add  1  tablespoon  of  flour  mixed 
well  with  a  little  water  to  keep  the  bean  pulp  from  settling  to  the  bottom.  Add  1  cup 
chopped,  cooked  ham,  or  other  meat  or  hard  cooked  eggs.  Stir,  reheat,  and  season 
as  desired. 

Bean  Chowder 

1  c.  dry  beans 

1  Vz  quarts  cold  water 

1  c.  diced  carrots 

1  c.  tomatoes 

Vi   c.  shredded  green  pepper 

2       tsp.  salt 

2       tbsp.  uncooked  cracked  wheat 

or  1  tbsp.  flour 
2       c.  milk 
1       onion,  chopped  fine 

Wash  the  beans;  add  the  cold  water  and  soak  overnight.  Cook  in  a  covered  pan 
until  the  beans  begin  to  soften,  then  add  the  vegetables  and  continue  to  cook  until 
tender.  Add  salt  and  cracked  wheat  or  flour  mixed  with  a  little  cold  water.  Stir. 
Cook  about  30  minutes.    Add  milk.    Heat  to  the  boiling  point  and  serve. 

Beans  With  Cheese  Sauce 
(Any  kind  of  cooked  beans  are  delicious  served  with  this  cheese  sauce.) 

Cheese  Sauce: 

3       tbsp.  butter 
3       tbsp.  flour 
V4   tsp.  salt 

1  c.  finely  cut  cheese 

2  c.  milk 

Melt  the  butter,  add  the  flour  and  the  salt.  When  these  are  blended,  add  the 
milk  gradually,  stirring  constantly  to  prevent  lumping.  When  the  mixture  is  thick- 
ened, stir  in  the  cheese,  and  put  the  mixture  over  hot  water  until  the  cheese  is  melted. 

If  a  stronger  cheese  taste  is  desired,  add  a  few  grains  of  cayenne  pepper,  which 
will  emphasize  the  cheese  flavor.    Serve  hot  on  the  hot  beans. 

Note:  Free  information  on  nutrition  and  diets  for  the  family  can  be  obtained 
from  the  Utah  State  Health  Department,  State  Capitol,  Salt  Lake  City;  Department 
of  Nutrition,  University  of  Utah,  Salt  Lake  City;  and  Extension  Service,  Utah  State 
Agricultural  College,  Logan,  Utah. 

llLilk  c*s  important 

Milk  supplies  the  chief  source  of  calcium  to  the  average-age  diet.  This  amounts  to 
about  %  of  the  total  calcium  in  our  national  dietary. 

In  addition  to  the  calcium,  milk  accounts  for  nearly  half  the  riboflavin  (B2), 
one-fourth  the  protein,  and  important  amounts  of  several  other  nutrients. 

Milk  is  the  most  economical  food  source  of  calcium  and  is  an  economical  source 
of  protein  and  riboflavin. — Utah  State  Department  of  Health 

Uncertain  Possession 

Chapter  4 
Beatrice  R.  Parsons 

Synopsis:  Lorna  Ash  ton,  an  orphan, 
marries  Dr.  Matthew  Wire  and  goes  to 
live  in  Westfield,  Nevada.  She  is  afraid 
that  Matthew's  relatives  and  friends,  and 
even  his  patients,  will  continue  to  mean 
so  much  to  him  that  he  will  never  belong 
wholly  to  her.  Soon,  however,  Lorna 
finds  that  she  is  making  a  place  for  her- 
self in  the  affections  of  Uncle  John, 
Nurse  Hallie,  and  Carole,  a  little  neigh- 
bor girl.  One  night  she  goes  with  her 
husband  and  Nurse  Hallie  to  the  Honson 
home  and  takes  care  of  the  older  children 
during  the  birth  of  twins,  and  this  ex- 
perience impresses  her  so  that  she  feels 
that  there  is  much  for  her  to  do  in  West- 
field,  and  that  by  making  herself  useful 
she  may  increase  her  own  happiness. 

AFTER  the  night  when  the 
Honson  twins  were  born, 
Lorna  strove  valiantly  to  rid 
herself  of  her  childish  terror  of  be- 
ing left  alone.  She  wanted  to  make 
Matt  happy.  She  wanted  to  make 
him  a  good  wife.  But  there  was 
so  much  for  her  to  learn! 

He  took  her  with  him  on  long 
drives  about  the  valley.  He  in- 
troduced her  to  his  friends.  She 
met  Carole's  parents,  the  Wilsons, 
who  lived  across  the  street. 

Anne  Clayton,  a  pretty  girl  with 
sparkling  blue  eyes  and  shining 
blond  hair,  and  Jeanne  Beatty,  a 
school  teacher  with  brown  hair  and 
blue  eyes,  were  friends  of  Matt. 
They  invited  Lorna  to  shop  with 
them,  but  her  innate  shyness  com- 
pelled her  to  refuse,  although  Matt 
urged  her  lightly  to  accompany 

"I  will,  one  of  these  days,"  she 
Poge  264 

promised  vaguely,  and  saw  that 
Anne  and  Jeanne  considered  her  a 
little  standoffish.  She  had  also  prom- 
ised Matt  that  she  would  call  on 
Margaret,  but  somehow  she  never 
got  around  to  doing  so. 

When  she  and  Matt  met  old 
Jim  Nason  in  the  hardware  store, 
the  old  man  stared  at  her  curiously, 
and  with  his  usual  bluntness,  he 
exclaimed:  "Pretty  gal!  Hope  she's 
got  brains  as  well  as  looks." 

After  he  had  gone,  Lorna  was 
flushed  and  a  little  angry.  Her  voice 
was  crisp.  "He's  quite  a  character, 
Matt!  I  certainly  don't  like  him " 

But  Matt  said  gently:  "Jim's  my 
oldest  friend.  He  used  to  carry  me 
pickaback  when  I  was  two.  He  took 
me  fishing  when  I  was  six  .  .  .  ." 

Lorna's  laughter  interrupted  him. 
"I  didn't  think  he  was  a  human 
being!  Well,  if  he  was  kind  to 
you  when  you  were  little,  he's  cer- 
tainly outgrown  it!" 

Matt  laughed,  too,  but  kept  de- 
nying that  Jim  was  as  bad  as  he 
seemed  on  the  surface.  But  Lorna 
squashed  all  his  arguments,  by  de- 
claring that  Jim  couldn't  have  much 
milk-of-human-kindness,  since  he 
wouldn't  give  that  hospital  to  the 

"A  statue  of  himself  in  the  mid- 
dle of  Sky  Valley,"  she  cried  scath- 
ingly. "Who  would  care  what  hap- 
pened to  such  a  grouchy,  ugly  old 

"I  would,"  said  Matt  firmly, 
opening  the  door,  and  Lorna  was 


curiously  surprised  that  he  meant  scolding  and  impatient  about  it, 
it.  She  brushed  the  matter  aside  probably  feel  that  she's  terribly 
and  said  she  wanted  to  buy  some  hard-done-by!  But  John  will  be  all 
blue  thread.  She  was  going  to  right.  Hallie  can  drop  over  and 
dress  a  doll  for  Watt's  little  polio  dress  his  foot."  He  stopped  talk- 
patient,  Patty  Hamilton.  She  was  ing  suddenly,  as  she  began  filling 
going  to  use  the  scraps  of  blue  net  his  plate,  then  jumped  up,  saying: 
from  her  party  frock.  "I    forgot!      There's    something    I 

The  frock  still  hung  carefully  in  must  tell  Uncle  John.  .  .  ." 

her  clothes  closet,  waiting  the  night  "Matt!"     Her  cry  stopped  him 

when  she  and  Matt  woud  go  danc-  with   his  hand   on   the   doorknob, 

ing.    But,  she  sighed,  remembering  She  had  been  so  happy  to  have  him 

how  little  time  Matt  ever  had  to  home.     Now  he  was  running  off 

himself.  again.    Her  disappointment  showed 

The  sign  on  his  office  said:  "10  in  her  face.    But  she  set  his  plate 

to   5."     More   often   than  not  he  in  the  oven,  as  she  saw  him  looking 

worked  from  eight  to  nine,  or  even  at  her,  and  said,  "All  right,  darling, 

midnight.     Many    times,    Lorna's  I  guess  I'll  never  really  make  a  good 

dinner,  neatly  arranged  in  her  shin-  doctor's  wife." 

ing  little  pots  and  pans,  grew  cold  His     dark     eyes     caressed     her, 

and  unappetizing  on  her  gas  range,  though  he  did  not  touch  her.    His 

Then   her   gray  eyes   would   meet  voice  was  gentle,  tender.  "There's 

Matt's  accusingly  when  he  came  in.  nothing  so  very  special  in  being  a 

doctor's  wife,  Lorna.    But  there  is 

r^NCE    she    said    exasperatedly,  something  very   special  about  be- 

"Matt,  I'm  sure  I'll  never  get  ing    understanding,    kind.     You're 

used  to  it!    Dinner's  spoiled.    I  did  growing  that  way,  my  dear.     Just 

want  it  to  be  nice."    She  put  a  pink  what  this  doctor  ordered!  He  loves 

bowl  of  shriveled  potatoes  on  the  you  very  much.     It's  nice  for  him 

table,  and  exclaimed,  "Matt,  if  you  to  come  home  and  find  you  here." 

were    at    Doctors'    Center    you'd  Her  heart  was  stirred  so  that  she 

always  be  home  on  time!"  wanted  to  go  to  him,  put  her  arms 

He  sighed  tiredly  as  he  washed  about  him,  hold  him  close.    Yet  she 

his  hands.    "I  had  to  drive  over  to  seemed  to  know  that  this  was  not 

John  Barker's.    He  crushed  his  foot  the  time.     She  laughed  teasingly. 

with  his  plow  .  .  .  ."  "You're  sure  the  doctor  isn't  sorry 

She     was     immediately     sympa-  that  he  doesn't   find   a  Westfield 

thetic.    "Matt,  is  he  going  to  be  all  girl  waiting  for  him.  Anne,  perhaps? 

right?"  Or  Jeanne,  maybe?  Or  .  .  ."  with 

He   patted   her   arm   as    he   sat  an   intenseness   she   didn't  realize, 

down.    "Darling,  you've  got  to  get  "or  Margaret?" 

over  the  idea  that  everyone  who  "They're  my  friends.  I  think  a  lot 

gets  hurt  is   going   to   die!"     His  of  them.     But  I  love  you.     And 

voice  was  teasing,  and  reassuring  at  you're  getting  to  be  a  wonderful 

the  same  time.    "He'll  be  laid  up  person.    You're  learning  not  to  ne- 

for  a  while.     And  Helen  will  be  gleet  my  telephone  calls,  or  mes- 


sages    from    my    patients.     You're  ists  back  their  money  when  the  sun 

learning  .  .  .  ."  didn't  shine,  or  it  rained.    So  .  .  ." 

He  didn't  finish.    His  eyes  had  she  smiled  teasingly,  "they'll  return 

caught  sight  of  the  two  little  china  all  rents  tonight." 

kittens     on     her     dressing     table,  Matt   laughed   and    helped   her 

through  the  opened  door,  and  his  wash  up  the  dishes  while  the  rain 

mouth  closed  firmly.    It  became  a  thundered  and  pounded  at  the  roof, 

little  stern  as  he  opened  the  door,  and   beat   the   swaying   fronds    of 

promising  to  come  back  in  a  few  tamarisk    low    against    the    white 

minutes.  picket  fence.    Flashes  of  lightning 

made  Lorna  wince,   and  she  was 

I  ORNA  forgot  her  little  pots  and  glad  Matt  was  there  beside  her. 

pans  as  she  stared  at  the  kit-  <Tm  scared,  Matt,"  she  whisp- 

tens.     She  knew  what  Matt  had  ered>  as  she  leaned  in  the  circle  of 

not  said.    So  far,  she  hadn't  been  his     arm,     watching     the     storm, 

able  to  bring  herself  to  give  Carole  Though  she  could  not  see  the  river, 

the  kittens.    Her  face  was  set.  She  nor    the    steel    bridge    across    it, 

needed  her  cats.    Times  like  this,  which    she    had    wondered    about 

she  needed  them  so  badly.    They  when  they  first  came,  she  was  sure 

comforted  her,  reminding  her  that  the  river  must  be  a  rushing  torrent 

she  couldn't  be  thoroughly  lonely  and  all  travelers  glad  of  the  firm, 

and  alone  while  she  had  them.  strong  bridge. 

While  she  waited  for  Matt  to  Matt  was  worried  about  some  of 

come  back,  she  picked  up  the  doll  the  farms  along  the  river's  edge, 

dress    she   was    making   for   Patty  Once  he  spoke  uncertainly  about 

Hamilton's  doll.  Jim  Nason.    Lorna  frowned. 

When    Matt    came    back,    his  "Quit  worrying  about  that  awful 

shoulders  were  damp  with  the  first,  old  man,  Matt. ^  He's  lived  by  the 

sudden  drops  of  desert  rain.  Lorna  river  all  his  life." 

had  never  known  that  a  storm  could  "But  he  hasn't  been  past  eighty 

come  up  so  suddenly.  Just  a  moment  all  his  life,"  objected  Matt  a  little 

before  she  had  sat  down  to  sew,  curtly.    "And  goodness  knows  what 

the  thunderheads  in  the  west  had  he'll  take  into  his  mind  to  do  dur- 

seemed  distant  and  far  away.    But  ing  this  storm.    If  he  goes  down  to 

now,  as  Matt  opened  the  door,  they  the  river  to  fix  his  sand  bags,  he 

were  overhead,  and  splashing  rain  might  .  .  .  ."     The  worry  in  his 

over  the  garden  in  a  burst  of  water  eyes  deepened,  and  almost  before 

that  amazed  her.  Lorna  realized  it,  he  was  getting 

As  they  ate  their  late  dinner,  she  into  his  long,  tan  raincoat,  finding 

watched    the    storm,    and    teased  his  hat,  shading  it  over  his  eyes. 

Matt  a  little.  "Matt!"  She  was  shocked  to  know 

"When  we  came  here,  darling,  he  was  going  to  leave  her,  going 

you   said  it  seldom  rained.     You  out  into  a  terrible  storm  to  look 

sounded  like  the  Chamber  of  Com-  after    an    unimportant    old    man. 

merce,  telling  me  that  cabin  and  "Matt,  be  sensible!    Of  course  the 

motel  owners  always  gave  the  tour-  (Continued  on  page  275) 

k/L    flew  JLtfe  for  (cyid  (greeting  Cards 

Clara.  Lastei 

EVERY  family  has  a  number  of  old  greeting  cards,  and  there  are  always  a  few  marked 
"special."     These  cards  are  lovely  enough  to  hang  upon  a  wall,  but  to  hang  them 
without  the  proper  background  does  not  seem  fitting. 

For  instance,  my  daughter  has  received  lovely  birthday  cards  every  year  since  her 
birth  and  she  will  not  part  with  one  of  them.  For  years  she  wanted  to  hang  them  in 
groups  upon  the  walls  of  her  room. 

Then,  one  day,  a  neighbor  suggested  a  way  to  hang  these  greeting  cards.  The 
secret  lay  in  purchasing  plaster  of  Paris  and  making  lovely  wall  plaques  of  them. 

Materials  Needed 

You  will  need  a  dish  the  size  and  shape  that  you  desire  your  plaques  to  be.  I 
would  suggest  a  platter  or  dinner  plate.  Buy  a  jar  of  white  vaseline  and  several  pounds  of 
plaster  of  Paris,  which  can  be  bought  from  any  lumber  store.  You  will  also  need  water, 
hooks,  and  coarse  sandpaper. 

If  you  cannot  buy  hooks,  these  can  be  made  from  wire  or  any  non-rust  material. 
Cut  out  the  motif  on  the  greeting  card.  Each  scene  or  picture  should  be  smooth  and 
flat,  with  the  edges  well  trimmed. 


Before  beginning,  have  on  hand  a  towel  and  a  soft  cloth.  Grease  the  mold  with 
a  very  thin  coat  of  vaseline.  Take  the  picture  you  have  cut  from  the  greeting  card 
and  soak  it  in  water.  Now  measure  as  much  dry  plaster  of  Paris  into  a  bowl  as  you 
judge  the  plaque  will  require. 

Take  the  picture  out  of  the  water  and  place  it  face  down  on  the  bottom  of  mold. 
Be  sure  to  center  the  picture  properly.    With  the  soft,  dry  cloth  pat  the  picture  gently 

Page    267 


on  the  mold,  making  sure  that  there  are  no  air  bubbles  under  the  picture  or  around 
the  edges. 

Now,  mix  the  plaster  of  Paris  with  a  little  water  to  the  consistency  of  whipping 
cream,  or  perhaps  a  little  thicker.  Stir  this  mixture  until  all  lumps  and  air  bubbles 
are  removed.  When  this  mixture  is  smooth,  pour  it  into  the  mold  to  a  thickness  of 
one-half  to  three-fourths  of  an  inch.  Remember  to  work  fast,  as  plaster  hardens  very 
quickly.  Use  the  towel  to  make  a  padded  surface.  Drop  the  mold  (plate)  gently  a 
few  times  on  this  padded  surface  until  all  bubbles  come  to  the  top  and  the  plaster  is 
evenly  distributed.    Put  the  hook  in  the  center  top  of  the  plaque. 

Let  the  plaque  dry  for  about  ten  minutes,  or  until  the  plaster  is  hard.  Then 
turn  the  mold  upside  down  on  the  towel,  and  let  it  remain  in  this  position  until  the 
bottom  of  the  mold  is  quite  warm. 

When  the  bottom  is  warm,  remove  the  plaque  from  the  mold  by  dropping  the 
mold  very  gently  upside  down  .on  the  towel.  Now,  take  the  plaque  and  smooth  the 
edges  with  coarse  sandpaper.  Allow  plaque  about  two  days  to  harden.  If  you  are 
in  a  hurry  to  hang  it,  however,  it  can  be  dried  by  placing  itMn  the  oven  for  about 
five  minutes.  The  oven  should  be  set  at  3500  and  the  plaque  should  be  left  in  for 
five  minutes.  Then  open  the  door  and  reduce  the  heat  to  200 °  and  continue  to  let 
the  plaque  dry  for  about  thirty -five  more  minutes. 

By  taping  ruffling  or  some  chosen  material  to  the  back  of  the  plaque,  allowing 
the  ruffle  to  extend  out  around  the  edges,  you  may  use  the  finished  plaque  to  help 
carry  out  the  color  scheme  of  a  room.  This  method  makes  lovely  and  eye-catching 
plaques,  and  certainly  gives  new  life  to  old  greeting  cards. 

{Better  JLooktng  ^Patches 
— slutcker 

Thalia  Black 

USE  a  razor  blade  to  rip  the  outside 
seam  of  overalls,  high  enough  to  al- 
low the  knee  to  lie  flat  on  the  machine. 

Cut   a   square   patch   large   enough    to  /  /  \  A PATCH 

cover  the  entire  knee  and  several  inches 
above  and  below  the  knee. 

Sew  in  place. 

Turn  overalls  wrong-side-out. 

Sew  outside  seam. 

From  The  Field 

Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123. 


Photograph   submitted   by   Afton    K.    Shreeve 


October  27,  1951 

Sister  Afton  K.  Shreeve,  President,  Uruguayan  Mission  Relief  Society,  at  left; 
Sister  Klara  Krisch,  President,  Ciudad'Nueva  Branch  Relief  Society,  at  right. 

Sister  Shreeve  reports  that  a  spirit  of  happiness  and  true  sisterhood  prevailed  at  this 
bazaar:  "The  first  activity  was  a  special  meeting,  which  featured  a  lesson  on  nutrition 
offered  by  two  missionaries,  La  Von  Evans  and  Mercel  Day,  and  a  special  message  by 
Sister  Shreeve.  Then,  as  visitors  and  friendly  investigators  began  to  arrive,  the  pre- 
pared articles  were  placed  on  display,  and  the  bazaar  began.  Included  among  the 
almost  innumerable  variety  of  items,  were  fruit  bags,  aprons,  tablecloths,  and  all  kinds 
of  kitchen  and  linen  items,  and  even  common  durable  wearing  apparel.  When  we 
asked  how  so  few  faithful  workers  could  possibly  produce  such  an  immense  quantity 
of  high  quality  articles,  Sister  Krisch  answered  that  she  assigned  one  article  to  each 
sister  after  every  weekly  meeting  ....  Such  is  the  prevailing  spirit  when  hands  are 
few  ....  Food,  in  the  form  of  a  nearly  complete  supper  was  served  .  .  .  and  the  re- 
maining trays  were  freely  delivered  among  a  small  crowd  of  hungry  children  who  had 
gathered  outside." 

Page  269 



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Photograph  submitted  by  Delia  H.  Teeter 

CONFERENCE,  January  20,  1952 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Rosamund1  Ramstrom;  Maurine  Humphris,  Second  Coun- 
selor; Gwendolyn  Manning;  Enid  Sherman;  Miriam  Caldwell,  Secretary-treasurer;  Helen 
Phillips;  Amelia  Nilson,  pianist. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Lelia  Higginson,  President;  Mabel  Harston;  JVlary  Clif- 
ford;, Ethel  Rathbun;  Buena  Tillotson;  Jean  Anderson;  Reva  Cram. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Lois  Trenham;  Lydia  Johanasen;  Cleo  Copen,  First 
Counselor;  Dorothea  Slack,  chorister. 

Delia  H.  Teeter  is  president  of  Denver  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Grace  C.  Crandall 




Front  row,  left  to  right:  Maude  Roylance;  Esther  Johnson,  Secretary;  Harriet  Wil 
Hams,  First  Counselor;  Clara  Sumsion,  President;  Chloris  Kindred,  Second  Counselor; 
Ethel  Weight;  Cornelia  Allen. 



Second  row,  left  to  right:  Irene  Strong;  Melva  Harrison;  Maraby  Beardall;  Cora 
Phillips;  Wilomina  Merrill;  Ann  Lewis;  Marguerite  Hales;  Lura  Patrick;  Martha  Gab- 
bitis;  Rhoda  Huff;  Reva  Roylance. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Erma  Ewell;  Malinda  Sumsion;  Leah  Harrison;  Mary 
Gabbitis;  Susie  Steffins;  Arvilla  Gardner;  Lillie  Wheeler;  Rose  Roylance;  Bessie 
Averett;  Velma  Roylance. 

Fourth   row,   left   to    right:    Pearl   Hall;   Anna   Young;   Lucile   Carter;    Florence 
Ecker;  Ella  Whiting;  Catherine  Russell;  Sylvia  Larsen;  Afton  Palfreyman;  Kate  Holley. 
Grace  C.  Crandall  is  president  of  Kolob  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph    submitted    by    Leone    R.    Bowring 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  BAZAAR,  November  17,  1951 

Left  to  right:  Edith  Christensen,  Secretary;  Vanera  Morris,  First  Counselor; 
Kathleen  Whittaker,  President;  Maxine  Bennett,  Second  Counselor. 

This  beautifully  arranged  bazaar  included  many  crocheted  and  hand-embroidered 
articles,  as  well  as  a  varied  display  of  aprons.  Women's  dresses  and  children's  cloth- 
ing, blouses,  skirts,  and  other  articles  added  to  the  variety  of  items  offered  for  sale. 

Leone  R.  Bowring  is  president  of  the  Texas-Louisiana  Mission  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Alligee  L.  Anderson 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Naomi  Belliston;  Georgeinna  Wilkey,  a  visiting 
teacher  for  thirty  years;  Lillian  Painter,  Rose  Worthington,  and  Violet  Bale,  visiting 
teachers  for  thirty-five  years;  Kate  Haynes,  Second  Counselor;  Alligee  L.  Anderson, 
President;  Pearl  Jenkins,  First  Counselor;  Ruby  Cox,  Secretary-treasurer;  Lucille  C. 
Lunt,  Assistant  Secretary-treasurer;  Mary  K.  Lattimer. 

Twelve  teachers  were  absent  when  the  picture  was  taken. 

Lyle  C.  Pratt  is  president  of  Juab  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Nan  Lindsay 


COUNTY  FAIR,  September,  1951 

Left  to  right:  Union  Stake  Relief  Society  officers,  Jessie  Perry,  Second  Counselor; 
Nan  Lindsay  President;  Argenta  Salkield,  First  Counselor. 

The  house  on  the  left  was  designed  and  furnished  by  members  of  the  LaGrande 
First  Ward  Relief  Society;  the  house  on  the  right  was  constructed  and  furnished  by 
Second  Counselor  Jessie  Perry  and  work  meeting  leader  Margaret  Huber  of  the  stake 



board;  and  the  house  in  the  rear  is  the  work  of  the  Imbler  and  Elgin  Ward  Relief 

The  hundreds  who  viewed  these  houses  were  delighted  with  the  perfection  of 
detail  in  the  harmoniously  decorated  interiors,  which  included  handmade  draperies, 
bedspreads,  floor  coverings,  and  furniture.  The  interiors  were  lighted  and  the  homes 

Photograph  submitted  by  Opal  Broadbent 


Women  seated  in  the  front  row,  left  to  right:    Sarah   Pierce,   First  Counselor; 
Roberta  Sorenson;  Doris  Wilson;  Beverly  Burton;  Connie  King. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Lois  Pritchett;  Olive  Jones;  Donna  Batt;  Rosella 
Sellers,  Second  Counselor;  Lenora  Wright,  President;  Helen  Sanderson;  LaRue  Jef 

Opal  Broadbent  is  president  of  Lyman  Stake  Relief  Society. 

y^Jrchard  Spring 

Ing  Smith 

Blossom  of  apple,  and  blossom  of  plum 
Drift  on  the  still  air  together 
Till  brilliance  of  wings  like  an  indigo  cry 
Breaks  the  languor  of  white  lace  weather. 

A  moment  to  hold  in  the  hand  like  a  shell- 
A  time  of  renewal,  a  time  of  farewell. 

d^/ur  J/tprti  Short  Story   Vi/f iters 



Inez  B.  Bagnell,  Kamas,  Utah,  author 
of  "Father  Was  a  Good  Provider,"  page 
229,  is  the  wife  of  Kenneth  H.  Bagnell  and 
mother  of  three  children.  In  writing  of 
her  literary  activities,  Mrs.  Bagnell  says: 
My  story  "I  Know  Where  You  Are"  ap- 
peared in  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  in 
February  1950,  and  "We'll  Always  Re- 
member" won  second  prize  in  the  Relief 
Society  Short  Story  Contest  in  1951.  I 
have  had  a  few  stories  accepted  by  na- 
tional publications.  I  love  writing  and 
hope,  as  the  children  grow  older,  to  be 
able  to  spend  more  time  at  it.  I  wrote 
"Father  Was  a  Good  Provider"  with  one 
hand  while  stirring  chili  sauce  with  the 
other,  as  I  never  seem  to  have  time  to 
settle  down  to  write.  It  is  not  a  true 
story,  however." 

Mrs.  Bagnell  is  literature  class  leader 
in  her  ward  Relief  Society  and  Sunday 
School  chorister.  Also  she  is  a  member 
of  the  Singing  Mothers  and  plays  reg- 
ularly with  an  orchestra  group. 

Maryhale  Woolsey  has  been  introduced 

to  readers  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine 
frequently  for  some  twenty  years,  seldom, 
if  ever,  being  introduced  without  a  ref- 
erence to  "Springtime  in  the  Rockies," 
her  most  famous  lyrical  composition. 
Author  of  poems,  stories,  articles,  she  is 
also  librettist  of  several  published  oper- 
ettas for  children  and  young  people.  She 
is  a  former  newspaper  reporter  and  fea- 
ture writer,  and  for  years  she  was  an  ad- 

vertising copy  writer.  Mrs.  Woolsey  is 
never  long  away  from  her  typewriter  or 
notebook.  Her  story,  "The  Long  Day," 
page  219,  grew  out  of  an  incident  in  her 
own  childhood — "without,  however,"  she 
says,  "such  prompt  explanation  as  came 
to  Edie  for  the  cause  of  that  lengthy 
summer  day." 

Mrs.  Woolsey  is  the  mother  of  four 
daughters  and  grandmother  to  four  small 
boys  and  six  little  girls.  Her  home  is  in 
Salt  Lake  City. 

Ora  Pate  Stewart,  author  of  "A  Frame 

for  Happiness."  page  237,  a  daughter 
of  Ezra  G.  and  Ada  Sharp  Pate,  is  the 
wife  of  Colonel  Robert  W.  Stewart,  now 
retired  from  the  United  States  Air  Force. 
In  the  eighteen  years  since  she  finished 
her  mission  to  the  Eastern  States  she  has 
had  seven  children,  published  seven  books, 
written  numerous  short  stories  and  poems, 
and  given  thousands  of  program  lectures. 
"I've  never  been  invited  to  South  Da- 
kota," she  says,  "but  it  has  been  my 
privilege  to  give  programs  in  every  other 
state."  The  entire  text  of  her  latest 
book,  A  Letter  to  My  Son,  was  recently 
read  over  the  British  Broadcasting  Sys- 
tem in  fifteen -minute  installments  on 
their  program  "Women  of  America." 

Mrs.  Stewart  now  lives  in  Salt  Lake 
City,  where  she  is  literature  class  leader 
in  her  ward  Relief  Society  and  is  active 
in   educational   and  community  affairs. 

Uj  rotten  c/reasury 

Margery  S.  Stewart 

Never  was  world  like  this! 
Never  a  spring  falling  down 
From  heaven  in  such  flower  falls, 
In  such  spray  of  birds,  blue  and 
Red-throated,  splashing  up  from 
The  green  pools  of  meadows. 
Never  such  nights,  with  curved 

Horn  of  moon  spilling  down  music 

Of  star  notes,  melodies  of  clouds, 

Viol  music  of  shadows. 

There  is  a  torrent  in  it  all, 

As  if  the  bars  of  heaven  had  broken 

And  spilled  beauty  intended 

For  a  score  of  years. 

Page  274 

Uncertain  Possession 

(Continued  from  page  266) 
old  man  won't  go  out  into  the 
storm.  He's  probably  snug  and 
warm  inside  his  house.  I've  seen 
his  house.  It's  even  more  firm  and 
strong  than  this  one.  He  can't 
possibly  come  to  any  harm."  With 
relief,  she  pointed  to  the  telephone. 
"Ring  him  up,  Matt,  and  as  a 
physician,  demand  that  he  stay  in- 

Matt,  bending  the  brim  of  his 
gray  felt  hat  more  directly  over  his 
eyes,  shook  his  head  briefly. 

"Can't  phone.  Jim  never  did 
take  lightly  to  Bell's  invention." 
He  was  trying  to  be  quiet,  casual, 
trying  to  make  her  smile.  Yet  she 
knew  that  his  lightness  was  only  a 
cover-up.  He  was  actually  worried 
about  Jim  Nason. 

1*  ORNA  tugged  at  his  arm  as  a 

flash  of  lightning  brightened 
the  room,  blotting  out  the  paleness 
of  the  electricity  with  its  eerie 
whiteness.  She  blinked  her  eyes 
to  see,  and  found  them  filled  with 
frightened  tears. 

"Matt,  you  can't  leave  me.  I'm 
frightened.  I'll  die  if  you  leave  me 
alone  .  .  .  ." 

He  cut  into  her  cries  with  an 
abrupt  anger.  "Come  along,  then. 
You'll  be  safer  in  the  car  than  any- 
where. And  you'll  be  with  me!" 
His  voice  held  cutting  sarcasm,  and 
little  tenderness.  He  was  annoyed 
with  her  childishness  and  didn't 
care  if  she  realized  it.  He  paused, 
saying  shortly:  "Are  you  coming?" 

She  was  frightened  to  stay  alone, 
yet  she  knew  that  Matt  would  be 
angry  if  she  insisted  on  going.     It 

Welcome  — 


y^^  NEW  MODEL 

No  other  organs  offer  so  much  for  the 
money  ...  no  other  organs  are  so 
versatile.  Connsonata's  richer  tones  are 
produced  by  purely  electronic  means, 
too.  No  reeds,  blowers  or  other  me- 
chanical parts.  Connsonata  Organs 
available  in  four  different  sizes  to 
accomodate  any  size  Chapel  or  audi- 





aunes  „ 


Page   275 



really  was  ridiculous  for  her  to  want 
to  go.  Hallie  and  Uncle  John 
weren't  far  away.  She  managed  to 
speak  calmly. 

"FA  stay  ....  I'll  call  Hallie  if 
I  get  too  frightened."  She  tried  to 
make  her  voice  calm.  "Be  careful, 
Matt.  And  don't  catch  cold." 

Her  lips  felt  a  little  stiff  as  she 
kissed  him  and  let  him  go.  But 
the  look  he  gave  her  was  reward 
enough  to  warm  her  as  she  waited 
for  him  to  come  back. 

He  was  gone  an  hour,  and  came 
back  to  report  that  Jim  had  been 
tucked  inside  his  house,  unworried 
about  the  storm  or  his  sandbags. 

After  her  two-hour  vigil,  Lorna 
could  laugh  a  little.  The  storm  hid 
long  since  died  down,  and  only  the 
eaves  dripped  quietly  after  the  pelt- 
ing rain.  Her  eyes  smiled  injto 

"And  of  course  Jim  thanked  you, 

Matt  smiled  wryly.  "Of  course 
he  didn't!  He  called  me  an  inter- 
fering young  busybody,  and  told  me 
frankly  that  when  he  wanted  any- 
one to  look  after  him  he'd  call 
Uncle  John."  He  was  hanging  up 
his  raincoat  as  he  talked,  and  when 
he  faced  her  his  forehead  was 
flushed.  "He  seemed  to  think  I  came 
because  I  was  trying  to  make  an  im- 
pression. About  the  hospital,  I 
mean.  He  grumped  about  and  said 
that  he  didn't  approve  of  my  mo- 

"You  had  no  motives,  Matt," 
cried  Lorna  indignantly.  "You  were 
simply  worried  about  him."  Her 
eyes  flashed.  "How  can  anyone  be 
so  .  .  .  so  .  .  .  impossible!  I'd  like 
to  giwe  him  a  piece  of  my  mind!" 

lyiATT  shook  the  dampness  from 
-  his  battered  hat,  and  smiled 
at  her,  fondly.  "Such  a  loyal  little 
wife!  But  I  don't  believe  giving 
Jim  a  piece  of  anyone's  mind  would 
help."  His  lips  twisted  into  a  rue- 
ful little  grin.  "I  like  Jim.  I'm  sure 
he  likes  me.  He's  got  his  faults. 
So  have  I.  I  guess  I  used  to  give 
him  a  bad  time  when  I  was  a  kid. 
So  he's  a  sort  of  child,  now,  and 
he's  giving  me  a  bad  time!  But  I 
can't  stop  liking  or  worrying  about 
him.  Even  though  I'd  like  to  spank 
him  as  hard  as  he  used  to  spank 
me  when  I  climbed  his  apple  tree!" 

He  finished  laughingly,  and  Lor- 
na looked  at  him,  wondering  how 
he  could  still  be  so  fond  of  the  old 
man.  Matt  had  said  he  had  faults, 
but  she  couldn't  find  them. 

However,  she  did  find  something 
in  Matt's  little  speech  to  make  her 
think  a  lot.  Perhaps  that  was  the 
way  with  all  people.  They  crossed 
off  other  people's  faults,  and  tried 
to  see  good  in  them,  just  as  Matt 
crossed  off  her  faults  of  selfishness 
and  possessiveness. 

She  had  those  faults,  she  knew, 
and  she  was  trying  hard  to  change 
them.  She  had  proved  that  to  her- 
self by  remaining  behind  when 
Matt  went  to  Jim's.  She  had  been 
terribly  frightened.  Yet  she  hadn't 
gone.  She  marked  that  down  as  a 
small  credit  on  the  proper  side  of 
her  fight  to  forget  how  lonely  she 
had  been  as  a  small  girl.  She'd 
been  lonely,  waiting  for  Matt  to 
come  back.  But  she  hadn't  let  him 
know.  The  storm  that  had  beaten 
outside  the  window  had  been  as 
fearful  as  the  one  which  had  beaten 
inside  her  heart.  But  it  was  over. 



And  she  hoped  that  she  had  won  a 
little  strength  for  the  next  time. 

She  had  almost  forgotten  the 
storm  by  the  time  she  met  Jim 
Nason  again.  She  was  shopping  in 
the  super-market  when  she  saw  him 
pushing  a  little  cart  and  selecting 
meager  wares  from  the  shelves. 

He  glanced  at  her  huge  basket 
of  provisions,  and  gave  her  a 
wrinkled  smile.  'The  Doc  says 
you're  a  good  cook,  Mrs.  Wire. 
He's  always  braggin'  about  you. 
Sometimes  I  wonder  if  you're 
as...."     ' 

"Sensible  as  I  am  fair-looking?" 
finished  Lorna  crisply.  Then  she 
was  ashamed,  and  her  face  flushed 
hotly  as  she  opened  her  lips  to 

Jim  brushed  the  matter  aside  with 
a  brief  wave  of  his  hand,  and  said 
curtly:  "You're  pretty  as  a  picture! 
On  the  outside.  But  I  do  hear  tell 
that  you're  .  .  .  well,  a  mite  dis- 
satisfied with  Westfield  and  the 
people  here.  You'd  like  to  go  back 
to  Utah  and  take  Matt  with  you." 

T  ORNA  hadn't  dreamed  that  peo- 
ple knew  how  she  felt.  Or  that 
they  had  discussed  it  with  others. 
She  felt  herself  burning  with  sud- 
den rage.  That's  the  way  it  always 
was  in  a  small  town  like  Westfield. 
The  people  all  knew  each  other  too 
well.  Why,  they  even  seemed  to 
know  what  a  person  thought. 

Lorna  spoke  sharply.  "It's  true, 
Mr.  Nason!  And  why  shouldn't  I 
want  to  take  Matt  away  from  here? 
He's  giving  so  much.  And  people 
don't  thank  him.  Just  look  at  your- 
self. The  other  night  in  the  storm 
he  was  worried  about  you.     And 



can  be  "laid  away"  for 
Easter  Delivery 




All  Kinds  of  Musical 



74  South  Main  Street 

what  did  you  say  when  he  came  to 
see  you?" 

"I  said  he  was  a  young  busybody, 
that  I  could  take  care  of  myself/' 
said  Jim  flatly.  ''And  I  can.  I 
don't  need  no  young  whippersnap- 
per  looking  out  for  me  .  .  .  ." 

"Yes  you  do,"  said  Lorna  just  as 
flatly.  "You  need  a  friend  as  much 
as  anyone.  And  Matt  will  be  your 
friend,  if  you'll  only  let  him. 
Not  .  .  ."  she  said  hotly,  "just  be- 
cause he  wants  a  hospital  in  Sky 
Valley,  and  knows  that  you  could 
build  one  if  you  liked.  But  be- 
cause Matt's  a  wonderful  person. 
A  fine  doctor  .  .  .  ." 

"And  the  man  you  love,"  finished 
Jim,  very  softly,  as  she  stopped  talk- 
ing, knowing  that  she  had  raised 
her  voice  so  that  people  were  listen- 
ing.   Suddenly  he  touched  her  hand 




As  advertised  over  Television  and  Radio 
The     harmless,     miracle      powder     which 
makes     nylons,     rayons,     and     silks     last 
longer.     Makes    them    resistant    to    snags, 
rips,  runs,  or  breaks. 


Try   it   on   an    inexpensive   pair   of   nylons 
and   be    amazed) 



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Now  at  a  new  low  price— 


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|    P.  O.  Box  1436 

|    Salt  Lake  City  10,  Utah 

:    Please  send  me  

:    NYLONG  for  which  1  enclose 

RSM4  | 
packages  ! 

i    Name : 

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Preserve  Your 

Relief  Society  Magazines 

For  Reference 

Have  your  Relief  Society 
Magazines  bound  into 
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small.  Write  or  phone  to- 
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Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

with  his  gnarled,  old  one.  His  old 
face  smiled  into  hers.  "Yep,  you 
love  him!  People  been  wonderin' 
about  that.  But  I  can  tell  'em " 

"You  needn't,"  said  Lorna  quick- 
ly, but  Jim  paid  no  attention. 

"I  can  tell  'em,  too,  that  you'd 
stay  on  here  in  Westfield,  if  your 
husband  could  get  himself  a  hos- 
pital.   But " 

"But,  he  can't,"  said  Lorna  harsh- 
ly, and  pushed  her  basket  towards 
the  check  stand.  She  saw  Jim  star- 
ing after  her.  She  knew  she'd 
ruined  Matt's  last  chance  to  ever 
get  the  hospital  he  dreamed  about! 
(To  be  continued) 


Pansye  H.  Powell 

No  aspen  spills  its  minted  gold 

That  he  is  not  aware; 

No  sparrow's  death  is  ever  tolled 

But  he  is  listening  there. 

When  breezes  sigh  or  robins  sing, 

He  hears  no  alien  tongue; 

He  knows  the  joy  rich  colors  bring 

When  April's  flags  are  flung. 

So  much  to  hear,  so  much  to  see, 

Yet  God  inhabits  all. 

His  the  mountain's  majesty! 

His  the  waterfall! 


Beatrice  K.  Ekman 

Dawn,  a  gray  moth,  unfolds  her  wings, 
And  stars  fade  from  the  cobalt  sky. 
The  moon's  pale  light  no  luster  brings; 
Across  the  fields  long  shadows  lie. 
No  wind-breath  in  the  blossomed  trees 
Nor  blades  of  grass;  the  air  is  still. 
The  night  has  let  the  gray  dawn  pass 
Without  a  sound  above  the  hill. 

The  Family  Hour 

(Continued    from    page    228) 

Refreshments  of  a  pioneer  nature 
will  follow. 

In  these  busy  times,  when  there 
are  so  many  things  to  do,  it  appears 
increasingly  important  that  we  find 
some  relaxation  with  our  children 
in  the  Family  Hour.  Although  we 
have  not  yet  attained  what  we  have 
considered  our  objective  in  keeping 
an  evening  for  this  purpose,  each 
week,  we  have  held  one,  two,  or 
more  per  month.  We  believe  the 
Latter-day  Saint  family  can  greatly 
enrich  filial  relations  by  this  type  of 

*jLprtl  0/5  uiere 

Grace  M.  Candland 

For  now  the  rain  is  falling 
And   a    fitful    wind    blows; 
The  fields  are  faintly  greening 
Beneath  the  winter  snows. 

Now  I  hear  the  meadow  lark — 
His  clear  and  lilting  trills, 
The  annual  spring  announcement 
Echoing  through  the  hills. 

How  can  I  measure  my  joy 
When  earth  is  new  again, 
And  I  may  gather  roses 
Along  the  country  lane? 

The  pleasant  days  of  budding 
And  slow  expanding  leaf 
Hold  part  of  summer's  glory 
And  autumn's  golden  sheaf. 


Mason  &  Hamlin 

The  Stradivari  of  Pianos 


The  Piano  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera 


Finest  Toned  Spinet  Piano  Built 


Finest  Low  Priced  Piano  Built 

All  Obtainable  At 

Beesley  Music  Co. 

Pioneer  Piano  People 
70  S.  MAIN  ST.     SALT  LAKE  CITY,  UTAH 



Salt  Lake  City  Store 


Page    279 

OJrorn   /Lear  and  cfc 

Sometime  ago  I  was  waiting  to  com- 
plete 9  long-distance  telephone  call  in  one 
of  our  larger  cities.  I  noticed  several  of 
the  office  girls  gathered  together  reading 
a  magazine.  As  I  knew  several  of  the 
employees  I  asked  what  they  were  read- 
ing that  was  so  interesting.  I  was  in- 
formed that  someone  had  come  into  the 
office  to  pay  a  bill  and  had  left  or  for- 
gotten her  Relief  Society  Magazine,  and 
they  were  all  reading  it  and  enjoying  its 
contents.  Sometime  later  I  spent  a  week 
at  the  hospital  and  took  along  a  dozen 
numbers  of  the  Magazine  to  read  while 
there.  I  read  them  all  and  enjoyed  them. 
Too  long  I  have  considered  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  as  being  for  women  of 
the  household  only.  To  me  the  articles 
by  Brother  Bowen  on  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States  (August,  September, 
October,  and  November  1951)  were 
especially  timely,  and  the  poetry,  stories, 
and  special  articles  are  always  enjoyable 
and  instructive.  I  intend  to  continue 
reading  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  and 
can  heartily  recommend  it  to  the  breth- 
ren of  the  Church. 

— John  O.  Simonsen 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

May  I  express  my  appreciation  for 
Blanche  Kendall  McKey's  beautiful  story 
"No  Tears,  Beloved"  (second  prize  story, 
February  1952).  Its  pathos  touched  my 
heart  and  I  wanted  to  put  my  arms  around 
"Jeanette."  It  is  a  story  I  shall  keep  to 
read  and  read  again. 

— Sylvia  Probst  Young 

Midvale,  Utah 

Words  cannot  express  how  much  we 
enjoy  The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  My 
fourteen-year-old  daughter  and  I  were 
patiently  waiting  for  the  conclusion  of 
the  serial  "Through  This  Door,"  by 
Margery  S.  Stewart  (January  1952).  I 
always  have  to  wait  until  my  daughter 
reads  all  the  stories,  when  it  is  my  turn 
to  read  the  Magazine  from  cover  to  cover. 
It  is  a  wonderful  Magazine  to  have  in  the 
home  for  all  members  of  the  family  to 

— Florence  Burr  Martin 

Preston,   Idaho 


Let  me  say  again  how  much  the 
Magazine  means  to  me.  I  once  heard  a 
stake  Relief  Society  leader  say  that  if  we 
as  mothers  would  read  every  page  of 
our  Magazine  and  seriously  try  to  live 
up  to  its  teachings  we  would  be  educated 
women,  abreast  with  the  times,  and 
would  know  no  senility  of  mind  or 
spirit  in  our  declining  years.  I  have  read 
every  line  of  the  February  number.  I 
must  mention  the  fine  article  "Good 
Afternoon,  My  Lady"  by  Mirla  Green- 
wood Thayne.  I  am  having  my  daughters 
read  this  especially.  It  will  help  them 
in  preparation  for  the  twilight  years  as 
well  as  now.  I  love  the  talks  and  poems 
on  the  Lamanites.  My  sixteen-year-old 
daughter  has  just  finished  reading  The 
Book  of  Mormon,  and  she  was  par- 
ticularly interested  in  the  Indian  ma- 
terial presented  in  the  February  Maga- 

— Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

Dayton,  Idaho 

The  February  Magazine  is  most  at- 
tractive, and  my  poem  "Vast  Horizons 
Calling"  (page  no)  is  proud  to  be 
placed  under  the  beautiful  mountain 
view.  The  cover,  also,  is  beautiful,  with 
its   striking  yucca  illustration. 

— Harriette   Grace  Eaton 

Redlands,  California 

I  am  pleased  that  my  story  "A  Frame 
for  Happiness"  has  been  chosen  for  the 
April  special  short  story  issue.  The 
Magazine  for  April  last  year  was  par- 
ticularly lovely.  The  Magazine  does 
much  to  encourage  more  abundant  liv- 
ing through  good  literature,  and  I  am 
always  pleased  when  something  of  mine 
is  acceptable. 

— Ora   Pate   Stewart 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

I  do  appreciate  the  opportunity  to 
have  my  work  published  in  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine.  It  is  a  wonderful 
Magazine,  and  the  editors  seem  to  have 
such  a  helpful  attitude  toward  would-be- 

— Inez  B.  Bagnell 

Kamas,  Utah 

Page  280 

For  your  April  reading 

of  these  church  leaders 


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This  life  story  of  the  sixth  president  of  the  Church 
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By  Orson  F.  Whitney  ™ 

Woven  into  this  life  story  is  the  light  and  color 
of  the  times  in  which  Daniel  H.  Wells  ^-  .__ 
lived.  3>2.75 


By  Claude  Richards  (3) 

Here  you  meet  the  full  man,  filled  with  telling 
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A  collection  of  the  intensely  interesting  and  in- 
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"fc)L  39    NO.  5 



Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 


Belle  S.  Spafford     -  "  "  Hrst  Counselor 

Marianne  C.  Sharp  _  Second  Counselor 

Ma^aretaTickeSng       _-  "-  -  "  -Secretary-Treasurer 

iviaiyu  *  Trrvton'  Lillie  C  Adams  Christine  H.  Robinson 

mter   jsg©-  ss-  Baser 

Pio^e»sen  5fi?lP*SSf  ^VcSe 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE  _  _        Marianne  c.  sharp 

Editor         -           -          -          "  '«,         Vesta  P.  Crawford 

Associate  Editor  -  _  Belle  S.  Spafford 

General  Manager  _.-.--  ■    

Vol.  39 

MAY  No.  5 


SPECIAL  FEATURES  -  ,  , ■   ■-  .       0QQ 

%*  a     •    r\~-  Mildred  B.  Eyring  283 

The  Spirit  of  a  Mother  s  Day Grace  M    Qandland  295 

I  Am  Partial  to  Maytame    ... VZ'ZMatia  McClelland  Burk  301 

Things  My  Mother  Taught  Me 


w.      „  Sylvia  Probst  Young  285 

A  Tribute  to  Miss  Tracy Edna  Rae  Madsen  290 

It  Happened  One  Day • Thelma  Hatch  303 

Every  Night  at  Our  House  - --- Beatrice  R.  Parsons  307 

Uncertain  Possession  —  Chapter  5  Deone  R.  Sutherland  313 

Dear  Conquest  —  Part  III  



Sixty  Years  Ago  — Ramona  W.  Cannon  297 

Woman  s  Sphere  _..........-.-.-.-. - r> Marianne  C.  Sharp  298 

Editorial:  'The  Pursuit  of  Happiness     » ---. -  - -. munui    o  r 

Notes  to  the  Field:  Previews  of  Lessons  to  Be  in  June  Magazine  Marianne'"  C7  Sharp  318 

Magazine  Subscriptions  for  1951 322 

The  Magazine  Honor  Roll  for   1951 

From  Near  and  Far  


„     ■         „      ,.      .._  Willard  Luce  288 

Lily  Pool  —  Rock  Garden  Combination  Helen  A.  Nielsen  300 

Sharing  Sunshine  v;--;-t",",- 302 

A  "Needle  and  Thread     Hobby  ; Lila  B    Smith  305 

Recipe  for  American  Chop  Suey  


Alice  Morrey  Bailey  282 

Overtones  —  Frontispiece  Mary   Gustafson  284 

Forever  Vesta  N .  Lukei  287 

Not  Happiness  Alone  "Marian  Schroder  Crothers  295 

Revelation  Iris  W.   Schow  299 

Our  Young  Mother  ; Wanda  E.  Rhodes  299 

May  Morning ....Doris  Riter  300 

A  Portrait  Grace  Sayre  302 

Some  Spring Harriett  L.   George  306 

A  Certain  Pledge  Maryhale  Woolsey  356 

Re-Entrance  of  Spring  Mabel  Law  Atkinson  358 

Kindness  Lael  W.  Hill  358 

Invited Beulah  Huish  Sadleir  359 

Compensation  .- Jessie  M.   Robinson  359 

Desert  Spring  


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:    40  North  Main,   Salt  Lake  City   V^tah.  Phone   8-274    ;   Sub- 

i£SR^Si^^iS^rmL  at  the  Post  Office    ^Jg^gvOgh.g*- 

unleT  return  PMtogeU  enclosed.   'Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  s.x  month,  only. 
TTie  Magazine  la  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 


Alice  Money  Bailey 

Mother  is  a  word  with  overtones. 

Within  its  syllables  the  senses  leap 

To  every  worthiness  the  memory  owns— 

A  cool  hand  on  the  brow  of  fevered  sleep, 

The  smell  of  new-made  bread  and  berry  pies, 

A  smile  of  pride  rewarding  battles  won, 

The  sight  of  home  that  falls  on  homesick  eyes, 

A  soothing  lullaby  when  day  is  done. 

Its  cadences  retain  a  tender  face 

And  mellowed  wisdom  where  the  heart  may  grow, 

Yet  leap  the  boundaries  of  time  and  space, 

Projecting  every  love  that  mortals  know— 

This  word  which  sends  its  singing  down  the  years 

And  magnifies  its  pattern  on  the  spheres. 

The  Cover:  Diamond  Lake  and  Mount  Thielsen  in  the  Oregon  Cascades 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 
Frontispiece  Photograph,  "Prune  Blossoms,"  by  Don  Knight 

The  Spirit  of  a  Mother's  Day 

Mildred  B.  Eyiing 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

DEAREST  JIM:  to  the  next  generation.  When  you 

Your  very  fine  letter  and  begin    bringing    your    children    to 

beautiful  card  arrived  today,  visit  us  your  debt  will  be  paid  in 

Thank  you  so  much  for  both.  Your  full.    You've  already  overpaid  us  in 

letters   are   always   appreciated   by  happiness  and  pride  for  everything 

all  of  us,  and  this  special  one  to  me  we've  done  for  you. 

is,  of  course,  very  precious.    I  shall  Mothers    are    just    people,    you 

put  it  in  my  treasure  chest.  know.    There  are  all  kinds,  strong 

I  confess  that  the  occasion  which  and  weak,  good  and  bad,  willing  and 
prompted  your  message  has  always  reluctant.  The  biological  accom- 
f ailed  to  arouse  my  own  enthusiasm,  plishment  of  motherhood  does  not 
My  affection  for  my  own  parents  insure  affection  for  the  child.  Yet, 
and  for  my  children,  and  theirs  for  it  seems  to  me,  filial  love  is  almost 
me,  has  always  been  so  spontaneous  universal  in  children, 
and  deep  that  I  have  never  wel-  In  the  almost-forgotten  days 
corned  the  organized  reminder  of  when  instinct  was  the  accepted 
the  relationship.  (I  know  that  I  am  theory  of  psychologists,  the  af fee- 
very  fortunate  in  having  a  devoted  tion  of  children  for  parents  was 
family,  but  I  cannot  believe  that  more  easily  explained  than  it  is 
mothers  whose  children  are  habit-  now.  But  perhaps  the  recent  re- 
ually  neglectful,  greatly  enjoy  the  discovery  of  the  importance  of  af- 
artificially  inspired  remembrances  fection  in  the  lives  of  infants  indi- 
those  children  may  send  once  a  cates  that  there  might  possibly  have 
year.)  been  a  basis  for  the  instinct  theory 

I  am  sure  that  Miss  Anna  Jarvis  after  all.  At  any  rate  it  is  recog- 
had  the  very  best  of  intentions  when  nized  that  often  a  neglected  child 
she  started  the  idea  of  Mother's  has  a  strong  emotional  attachment 
Day  more  than  forty  years  ago,  but  for  his  derelict  parents.  There  are, 
I  doubt  that  she  foresaw  how  it  of  course,  many  derelict  children  in 
would  develop.  In  fact,  I  think  I  whom  seemingly  fine  parents  have 
have  read  of  her  great  disappoint-  somehow  failed  to  instill  respect 
ment  in  her  later  years  at  the  way  and  devotion, 
her  idea  had  been  modified  and  I  can  think  of  one  universal  good 
commercialized.  Also,  I  suspect  that  could  come  from  an  appointed 
that  she  would  have  felt  differently  Mother's  Day  such  as  we  celebrate, 
had  she  been  a  mother  herself.  She  If  the  emphasis  were  placed  on  the 
seems  not  to  have  realized  that  privileges,  opportunities,  and  obliga- 
motherhood  is  its  own  reward,  or  tions  of  motherhood;  and  if  on  that 
punishment,  depending  on  the  sort  day  mothers  tried  to  measure  them- 
of  mother  a  woman  is.  Actually,  selves  objectively,  counted  their  tri- 
the  real  debt  owed  by  a  child  to  his  umphs  and  mistakes,  and  then  re- 
parents  for  life  itself,  must  be  paid  dedicated  themselves  to  their  tre- 

Poge  283 


mendous   task,   much   good   could  scale   commercialism.    Any   adver- 

come  of  it.  tising  that  was  done  would  surely 

I  know  I  could  profit  by  such  be  much  diluted  by  the  very  neces- 
examination  and  resolution.  I  am  sity  of  daily  repetition.  Still  another 
aware  of  numerous  shortcomings  in  very  real  advantage  would  be  that 
me  as  a  mother.  The  fact  that  you  the  unfortunate  women  who  are 
love  me,  as  I  know  you  do,  is  a  denied  motherhood,  and  those, 
blessing  which  I  feel  I  do  not  fully  even  more  unfortunate,  whose  chil- 
deserve.  I  am  grateful  to  a  kind  dren  fail  to  remember  them,  would 
Creator  for  making  us  as  we  are.  not  be  made  more  unhappy  by  the 
Repentance  and  forgiveness  are  unavoidable  reminder  of  their  mis- 
wonderful.  Love  is  a  miracle.  Yes,  fortune  as  they  are  at  present  on 
I  am  sure  an  annual  examination  Mother's  Day. 
would  be  worthwhile  for  me.  Forgive  me  for  writing  such  a 

But,  as  a  day  of  affectionate  re-  dissertation  on  the  subject.  Your 

membrance  and  real  significance  for  letter  prompted  the  idea.     I  have 

both  a  mother  and  a  child,  I  would  just  let  my  thoughts  ramble  and 

prefer  the  birthday  of  the  child,  they've  come  out  this  way.    What 

That  is  the  day  that  belongs  to  both  do  you  think  of  them?     Shall   I 

of  them  in  a  way  that  no  other  day  start  something?  Don't  worry!  You 

can  possibly  belong.  For  a  child  to  know  I  am  not  the  campaigning 

sense  his  indebtedness  to  his  moth-  type.    But  someday,  perhaps,  some- 

er  and  to  honor  her  on  his  birthday  one  with  more  of  a  flair  for  that 

would  enhance  the  meaning  of  the  sort   of   thing  will   do   something 

day  for  both  of  them,  and  would  about  making   the  observance    of 

in  no  way  detract  from  the  atten-  motherhood  more  in  the  spirit  of 

tion  the  child  customarily  receives,  motherhood. 

Of  course,  I  may  be  accused  of  It  is  good  to  know  you  are  well 

scheming  to  have  five  celebrations  and  that  your  work  is  moving  along 

instead  of  one.    In  reality  it  would  so  satisfactorily.    I  am  sure  the  Lord 

make  one  less,  because  all  the  birth-  will  bless  you  for  your  devotion  to 

days    are    celebrated    anyway.     It  it.     I  pray  that  he  will  bless  you 

would  mean  only  that  each  child's  also  for  your  devotion  to  me.  I  am 

remembrance  of  me  would  be  a  very  sincere  when  I  close  with  the 

very  special  one,  unrelated  and  un-  familiar  phrase, 

compared  to  that  of  any  other.  And  Worlds  of  love— 
another  advantage  not  to  be  ignored, 

would  be  the  impossibility  of  grand-  MOTHER 


Maiy  Gustaison 

Miles  may  separate  us, 
Years  may  dull  the  face, 
But  the  heart  remembers 
And  spans  both  time  and  space. 

A  Tribute  to  Miss  Tracy 

Sylvia  Probst  Young 

SPRING  had  come  to  Indian 
Bend,  and  on  that  Sabbath 
morning  in  May  the  world 
was  at  its  loveliest.  Our  apple  trees 
were  gowned  in  white  blossoms, 
and  in  the  willows  by  the  creek  the 
blackbirds  were  holding  their  morn- 
ing concert  while  we  held  Sunday 
School.  I  was  playing  the  prelude 
music,  and  from  my  place  at  the 
organ  I  could  look  down  at  the  con- 
gregation. The  chapel  was  full, 
there  was  scarcely  a  vacant  seat  be- 
cause it  was  a  special  morning— it 
was  Mother's  Day. 

The  mothers  were  seated  on  the 
first  three  rows  of  benches,  and  the 
sunlight  coming  through  the 
stained  glass  window  seemed  to  cast 
a  sort  of  radiance  around  them  that 
was  almost  heavenly.  I  looked  at 
their  faces— all  familiar.  One  or 
two  new  mothers  were  occupying 
that  place  of  honor  for  the  first 
time.  As  I  looked  at  them  I  thought 
of  Miss  Tracy.  Surely  she  should 
have  been  among  the  mothers,  for 
there  is  not  an  individual  in  Indian 
Bend  who  hasn't  been  mothered  in 
one  way  or  another  by  her. 

Miss  Tracy  had  come  in  a  few 
minutes  before  and  slipped  quietly 
into  a  seat  near  the  door.  I  could 
see  her  gentle,  smiling  face  framed 
by  the  soft  gray  hair.  And  propped 
against  the  bench  was  the  crutch 
that  she  always  used.  Miss  Tracy 
is  our  school  teacher.  For  over  thirty 
years  she  has  taght  the  first  three 
grades  in  Indian  Bend,  and  she 
seems  as  much  a  part  of  the  school 
as  the  old  ivy  that  climbs  against 

it.  How  familiar  is  that  figure,  a 
crutch  under  her  left  arm,  limping 
slightly  as  she  goes.  Miss  Tracy 
has  used  that  crutch  almost  all  of 
her  life.  Folks  say  she  had  some 
kind  of  disease  when  she  was  a 
child  and  it  left  her  left  leg  shorter. 
If  her  lameness  is  any  sort  of  handi- 
cap to  her,  though,  no  one  knows 
it.  She  seems  to  be  able  to  do 
almost  anything  anyone  else  can, 
and  she  always  wears  a  smile. 

My  mother  was  in  the  first  grade 
when  Miss  Tracy  started  to  teach 
school  back  in  1918.  Miss  Tracy 
was  just  eighteen  then,  and  she  was 
engaged  to  be  married.  On  the 
mantle  in  her  living  room  is  a  pic- 
ture of  a  young  man  in  uniform- 
George  Hayward  from  Clarksville. 
She  told  me  about  him  once  when 
I  was  spending  an  evening  with 

'That  was  a  long  time  ago,"  she 
said,  and  her  eyes  grew  wistful. 
"George  was  a  handsome  fellow  and 
a  good  one,  he  could  have  married 
any  girl  in  the  country.  So  wasn't 
I  a  lucky  girl  to  be  loved  by  him?" 

(That  might  have  been  true. 
But  on  the  mantle  is  another  pic- 
ture of  a  girl— a  lovely  girl  with 
sparkling  eyes  and  a  smiling  face, 
a  girl  who  radiated  joy.  So  I  would 
think  that  George  Hayward  was 
lucky  to  be  engaged  to  her.) 

"We  had  so  many  wonderful 
plans— just  like  young  people  do 
now— but  there  was  a  war  and 
George  had  to  go.  I  remember  as 
if  it  were  yesterday  how  we  went 
down  to  Clarksville  in  Dad's  white- 
Page  285 


top  buggy  to  bid  the  boys  good-  might  have  been  if  George  Hay- 
bye.  It  was  hard  saying  goodbye,  ward  had  returned.  But  that  just 
I  stood  on  the  station  platform  with  wasn't  to  be. 
his  arms  around  me.  I'll  be  back,  *  *  *  #  # 
honey/  he  whispered,  Til  be  back  ~  UR  Mother-s  D  m  was 
before  we  know  it.  XJ  beautiful  Mrs.  chandler  sang 
But  when  the  boys  came  back  „Mother  Machree»  as  on]  she  can 
he  didn  t  come  with  them.  He  was  ;      .        d  M    sh  u    ,      fb 

killed  at  Chateau-Thierry.  I  think         6    '  ,     J . 

.,       ,     .   ,  /        ,  our  mothers  was  almost  a  master- 

that  they  buried  part  of  my  heart       .  „,  ...  ,  . , 

beside  him.    But  I  tried  very  hard  Piece'    The  concluding  part  of  the 

to  keep  my  grief  inside,  and  I  found  Program  was  PassinS  *e  carnations, 

the  best  way  to  do  that  was  to  keep  We  alwaYs  §lve  carnations  to  our 

busy.     Work  was  good  medicine,  mothers  in  Indian  Bend.  For  some 

I  decided  then  that  if  I  couldn't  reason    or    other    we    have    never 

have  any  children  of  my  own  may-  changed  that  custom, 
be  I  could  help  mother  other  peo-         "The   girls   in    Mrs.    Hamilton's 

pies'.     And  so  I've  kept  teaching  class   will   now   present   carnations 

school  and  trying  to  help  those  who  to    our    mothers,"    Brother    Boyle 

need  me.  announced. 

"And  one  of  these  days,"  she  Mrs.  Hamilton  teaches  the  eight- 
laughed  and  her  eyes  danced,  "I'm  year-olds.  There  were  six  little  girls 
just  likely  to  up  and  steal  some-  there  to  pass  the  flowers— and  one 
body's  youngster  when  they're  not  of  them  was  Peggy>Gillis.  My  heart 
looking."  ached  when  I  saw  her,  for  Peggy's 

That  was  like  Miss  Tracy  to  end  mother  is  dead.  Mrs.  Gillis  died 
her  story  with  a  joke.  She  said  that  two  years  ago,  and  since  then  her 
she  had  kept  busy— how  true  that  children  (there  are  five  of  them) 
was.  She  has  had  time  to  sit  up  have  had  quite  a  struggle.  Mr.  Gil- 
nights  with  the  sick,  to  bake  a  pie  lis'  work  keeps  him  out  of  town 
for  a  tired  mother,  to  read  to  some  except  for  the  week  ends,  and  four- 
"shut-in,"  to  sew  for  a  needy  fam-  teen-year-old  Jean  has  tried  to  take 
ily.  She  is  never  too  tired  to  hear  her  mother's  place,  and  that  is  a 
someone's  troubles  or  to  give  big  order.  Miss  Tracy  has  been 
sympathy  and  encouragement.  little  less  than  their  guardian  angel. 

I  once  asked  her  if  she  didn't  get  Of  course  she  never  tells  how  she 

lonesome  in  her  big  house  all  alone  helps    them    can    fruit,    and    sews 

since  her  father  died.  for  them,  or  the  many  evenings  she 

She  smiled.    "I  never  really  feel  spends  at  their  home.  But  they  tell 

like  I'm  alone,"  she  said.  "There's  it,  and  no  one  is  surprised, 
usually  someone  dropping  in.  Then         I  looked  at  Peggy.  She  didn't  look 

I  have  my  piano,  and  I  like  to  get  like  an  orphan,  she  was  wearing  a 

out  the  music  that  we  used  to  sing  new  dress  and  a  new  pink  ribbon 

and  play  it  over."  in  her  hair.     I  had  a  feeling  that 

Yes,  Miss  Tracy  should  have  been  Miss  Tracy  had   made   the   dress, 

a  mother.     How  different  her  life  but  I  didn't  know.    I  did  wish  that 



she  wasn't  up  there  passing  flowers, 
though,  it  made  me  want  to  cry. 
Of  course  Mrs.  Hamilton  couldn't 
tell  her  not  to,  and  maybe  her  sis- 
ter didn't  want  to  tell  her  not  to 

Mrs.  Hamilton  gave  each  little 
girl  a  bouquet  of  the  fresh,  spicy 
blooms,  and  they  walked  quietly 
among  the  mothers,  giving  one  to 
each.  When  all  of  the  mothers  had 
received  flowers  the  children  walked 
back  to  their  seats— all  except  Peggy 
Gillis.  She  stood  a  moment  and 
looked  around,  then  smiled  and 
walked  quickly  down  the  aisle.  At 
a  bench  beside  the  door  she 
stopped,  and,  taking  a  big,  red  car- 
nation from  her  bouquet,  she  thrust 
it  into  Miss  Tracy's  hand.  Before 
Miss  Tracy  could  stop  her  or  say  a 
word  she  had  turned  and  was  hur- 
rying back  to  her  place.  You  could 
have  heard  a  pin  drop  in  our  little 
chapel.  I  thought  I  saw  tears  in 
Miss  Tracy's  eyes,  but  I  was  too  far 
away  to  be  sure. 

Brother  Boyle  rose  then  to  make 

the  concluding  remarks,  and  I  am 
sure  that  he  voiced  what  we  had 
all  been  thinking. 

'Today  we  have  honored  our 
mothers,"  he  said,  'all  of  them. 
For  surely  we  all  know  that  there 
are  mothers  who  have  no  children 
of  their  own,  but  are  mothers 
nonetheless,  for  thehs  are  mother 

Those  words  seemed  like  a  bene- 
diction, and  I  thought  that  never 
had  words  been  more  appropriate 
than  were  those  words  for  Miss 

Just  how  much  that  simple, 
childish  expression  of  love  had 
meant  to  her  I  learned  two  weeks 
later  when  I  had  an  occasion  to 
visit  her.  On  her  big,  old  kitchen 
table  in  a  little  glass  bud  vase  was 
a  carnation— once  red,  but  now 
withered  and  brown  looking.  And 
if  you  should  look  at  her  keep- 
sakes some  day,  I  have  an  idea  you 
would  find  it  among  them,  because 
for  Miss  Tracy  that  little  carnation 
was  the  perfect  tribute. 

I lot  uiapptness  Jxlone 

Vesta  N.  Lukei 

Love  is  not  happiness  alone, 
Nor  deep  content, 
But  life's  complete  full  overtone 
And  testament. 

It  is  the  reaching  for  a  star, 
The  restless  yearning 
After  dreams  that  shine  afar 
With  midnight  burning. 

It  is  the  shining  filament, 
Quicksilver  bright, 

That  weaves  a  pattern,  heaven-sent, 
Through  day  and  night. 

It  is  the  understanding  heart 
That,  knowing  sorrows 
Of  yesterday,  with  greater  art 
Creates  tomorrows. 

Love  holds  all  joy  the  heart  has  known, 

And  soul's  lament; 

It  is  not  happiness  alone, 

Nor  deep  content. 

Lily  Pool — Rock  Garden 

Willard  Luce 

SOMEHOW  a  lily  pool  and  a 
rock  garden  just  seem  to  be- 
long together,  like  peaches 
and  cream  or  bread  and  butter.  A 
well-planned  and  well-planted  rock 
garden  makes  a  natural  and  beau- 
tiful backdrop  for  the  pool  and 
brings  a  bit  of  mountain  loveliness 
into  your  garden. 

The  sides  of  the  pool  should 
curve  informally  and  naturally  to 
fit  into  the  space.  And  the  dirt 
shoveled  from  the  pool  makes  a 
natural  elevation  for  your  rock 

There  are  a  great  many  beautiful 
and  highly  colored  stones  which 
make  wonderful  museum  pieces  but 
are  not  especially  suitable  for  rock 
gardens.  Their  bright  colors  fight 
for  attention  with  the  blossoms, 
and  no  plant  can  grow  upon  the 
rocks  themselves.  Then  there  is 
always  the  tendency  to  stand  the 
rocks  up  so  that  the  end  result  is 
more  like  a  cemetery  than  the 
natural  bank  of  a  mountain  pool. 

A  far  better  stone  is  one  which 
is  soft  and  porous,  such  as  are 
found  near  many  mineral  springs. 
These  usually  have  soft,  neutral 
colors.  The  cavities  help  hold  the 
soil  and  furnish  a  growing  place  for 
rock  garden  plants. 

And  don't  limit  yourself  to  what 
some  seed  catalogues  classify  as  rock 
garden  plants!  Almost  any  plant 
which  does  not  grow  too  tall  can 
be  used:  spring  bulbs,  pansies,  pe- 
tunias, poppies,  dwarf  iris,  violas, 
Page  288 

to  name  just  a  few.  Remember, 
however,  your  space  is  limited,  and 
you  must  plan  carefully  so  as  to 
have  a  continuous  succession  of 
blossoms  throughout  the  growing 

In  the  pool  itself  you  will  want 
water  lilies  of  different  colors. 
These  will  cover  much  of  the  pool 
with  large,  round,  green  leaves,  and 
furnish  a  variety  of  blossoms  from 
late  spring  until  early  fall. 

Water  hyacinths  are  beautiful.  In 
the  South  they  grow  so  profusely  as 
to  clog  the  streams  and  canals. 
In  the  North,  however,  they  die  out 
during  the  winter  unless  taken  up 
and  cared  for  inside.  In  most  cases 
their  cost,  plus  this  extra  care, 
makes  their  value  to  a  lily  pool  in 
the  North  somewhat  doubtful. 

Certain  native  plants,  such  as  cat- 
tails and  arrowheads,  are  abundant* 
in  many  states  and  can  add  much 
to  the  beauty  of  your  pool.  Cat- 
tails must  be  watched  carefully, 
however,  or  they  will  crowd  every- 
thing else  out.  And  care  must  be 
exercised  in  securing  native  plants 
to  see  that  you  don't  also  include  a 
start  of  the  many  native  mosses. 
Most  of  these  are  rapid  growers 
which,  if  left  alone,  will  soon  crowd 
out  and  kill  the  other  plants. 

Another  beautiful  plant,  but  also 
a  crowder,  is  the  water  iris.  How- 
ever, after  a  few  years  you  will 
probably  find  your  pool  too  crowd- 
ed regardless  of  what  you  plant. 
Then  is  the  time  for  a  good  spring 


pool  cleaning  and  plant  balancing. 
Thin  generously  or  you  will  be  re- 
peating the  job  before  very  long! 

TF  goldfish  are  to  be  kept  in  the 
pool,  it  would  be  wise  to  include 
some  oxygenating  plant  such  as 
Elodea,  which  will  generate  oxy- 
gen within  the  water  of  the  pool, 
thus  keeping  it  fresh.  Also  keep  a 
piece  of  it  in  your  aquarium  with 
your  fish  during  the  winter  months. 
It  will  keep  the  aquarium  water 
fresh  and  provide  you  with  a  new 
start  for  your  lily  pool  should  that 
which  you  leave  outside  winterkill. 
Snails  are  also  helped  by  the 
Elodea  and  in  turn  help  keep  the 
pool  free  from  decayed  animal  and 
vegetable  matter.  They,  too,  can 
be  kept  in  the  aquarium  during  the 

Frogs  not  only  keep  the  pool  free 
of  mosquito  larvae  and  various  oth- 


er  insects;  but  they  also  furnish 
summer  evening  choruses— if  you 
happen  to  enjoy  summer  evening 
choruses  furnished  by  frogs. 

Besides  the  beauty  which  a  lily 
pool  -  rock  garden  combination 
brings  to  your  back  yard,  it  will  also 
prove  an  invaluable  source  of  na- 
ture study  for  yourself  and  your 

You  will  be  able  to  watch  the 
bees  flying  from  flower  to  flower, 
observe  the  hornets  landing  on  the 
lily  pads  for  a  drink  of  water.  You 
might  even  see  the  ugly  nymph 
crawl  up  an  arrowhead  stem,  split 
its  own  skin  down  the  back  and 
emerge  a  beautiful  and  shining 
dragonfly.  You  might  see  ...  . 
Oh,  you  might  see  any  number  of 
wonderful  things  from  your  lily 
pool  and  rock  garden.  If  you  don't 
already  have  such  a  combination, 
you  might  start  planning  for  one  in 
the  future.    It  will  be  worth  it! 

Willard  Luce 



It  Happened  One  Day 

Edna  Rae  Madsen 

SPRING  in  Arizona  is  cool  and 
pleasant.  Bright  cardinals 
flash  everywhere;  yellow  gros- 
beaks fill  the  shrubs  and  bushes; 
mockingbirds  sing  all  night  long. 
The  children  go  to  school  with  no 
coats  on.  They  skip  and  sing,  play 
jacks  and  marbles,  and  hopscotch, 
long  before  their  northern  cousins. 

However,  I  felt  a  bit  lonely  and 
dispirited  in  spite  of  the  lovely 
weather;  but  that  day  something 
unexpected  was  to  happen  to 
change  all  my  feelings. 

Frank,  my  husband,  taught  music 
at  the  junior  college,  which  was 
just  down  two  houses  and  across 
the  street  from  our  place.  As  a 
special  event  there,  Mr.  Paul  Bliss, 
the  well-known  pianist,  was  sched- 
uled to  play  a  concert.  He  was  ex- 
pected to  arrive  about  noon  on  the 
bus  from  El  Paso,  and  play  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening. 

The  concert  was  well  advertised, 
and  all  the  students  were  anticipat- 
ing the  event  with  a  degree  of  ex- 
citement, but,  for  me,  it  seemed  to 
have  a  special  significance  from 
the  first  time  I  had  heard  of  it. 
One  of  my  piano  teachers  years  ago 
had  given  me  'Twilight  Dance,"  a 
piece  by  Mr.  Bliss.  The  piece 
had  always  been  a  delight  to  me, 
and  the  name  of  Paul  Bliss  was  so 
closely  associated  with  it  that  it 
was  a  very  real  part  of  my  impres- 
sion of  it.  In  fact,  whenever  I 
played  it,  it  lifted  me  out  of  a  de- 
spondency I  often  felt  over  the  fact 
that  I  was  not  a  great  pianist  my- 
self, instead  of  just  a  housewife  and 

Page  290 

mother.  I  had  painted,  too,  major- 
ing in  art,  and  this  also  added  to 
my  discontent. 

The  possibility  of  actually  hear- 
ing Mr.  Bliss  in  person,  after  all 
these  years  of  playing  this  piece, 
had  given  me  a  new  lease  on  life, 
as  it  were,  and  I  could  hardly  wait 
for  the  concert. 

As  Frank  went  over  to  school  that 
morning  at  nine  o'clock,  he  noticed 
a  strange  man,  with  graying  hair, 
wearing  a  plain  brown  coat  and  gray 
trousers,  walking  about  the  campus. 
Some  classes  had  begun,  so  the 
grounds  were  empty  of  students. 
The  man  was  wandering  aimlessly 
about,  enjoying  the  warm  sunshine. 

He  was  near  the  tennis  courts 
when  Frank  went  to  him  and  spoke 
a  cheerful  good  morning,  instinct- 
ively realizing  that  this  man  was 
the  renowned  pianist.  He  had  come^ 
on  the  early  bus!  Shamefully  em- 
barrassed that  their  famous  guest 
had  been  neglected,  Frank  hurried 
him  over  to  our  place. 

I  had  just  finished  the  breakfast 
dishes  and  the  bedmaking,  for 
which  I  was  definitely  thankful.  The 
three  older  children  had  gone  to 
school,  and  little  John  was  playing 
about,  carrying  the  kitten  back- 
wards, as  usual,  under  his  arm. 

By  a  nod  of  his  head,  Frank  made 
it  known  to  me  that  Mr.  Bliss  had 
not  had  breakfast.  Suddenly  realiz- 
ing who  was  actually  in  the  house, 
I  went  into  action. 

My  emotions  began  getting  the 
better  of  me,  and  my  trembling 
hands  kept  nearly  dropping  things, 



but  the  smile  just  wouldn't  leave 
my  face. 

Mr.  Bliss  seemed  highstrung,  too! 
He  kept  coming  into  the  kitchen 
nervously  to  see  what  I  was  doing. 
In  the  excitement,  we  kept  bump- 
ing into  each  other.  It  was  the 
most  delightful  confusion!  I  poured 
boiling  water  in  the  cup  of  postum, 
but,  before  I  could  pick  it  up,  Mr. 
Bliss  was  right  there  and  carried  it 
into  the  dining  room  himself. 

Once  we  were  seated  and  eating, 
things  quieted  down.  Frank  talked 
about  the  climate  while  I  made 
fresh  toast  and  postum.  He  ate  a 
little  with  Mr.  Bliss  to  ease  the 
tension  he  knew  I  felt,  but  Frank 
looked  a  little  nervous,  too. 

When  we  were  finished,  Mr. 
Bliss  jumped  up  from  his  place  and 
began  clearing  the  table.  I  tried  at 
first  to  protest,  but  gave  up  and 
just  let  nature  take  its  course! 

Fearing  that  I  hadn't  done  too 
well  with  breakfast,  and  he  might 
leave,  and  so  put  an  end  to  such 
a  remarkable  adventure,  I  stood  in 
the  kitchen  tensely,  listening. 

To  my  great  relief,  Frank  said, 
"You  stay  right  here  and  practice 
on  our  piano— just  make  yourself 
right  at  home." 

A/f  R.  Bliss  graciously  accepted.  A 
silence  followed— and  then 
Mr.  Bliss  noticed  the  paintings  on 
the  walls.  (They  were  the  ones  I 
had  done  in  my  student  days.) 
Frank  and  Mr.  Bliss  went  from  one 
painting  to  another,  making  com- 
ments. I  tiptoed  along  behind  to 
listen.  The  picture  hanging  over 
little  John's  bed  seemed  to  interest 
Mr.  Bliss.  He  looked  at  it  very  in- 

'Tour  wife  has  a  lovely  talent," 
he  said. 

I  floated  back  into  the  kitchen 
and  was  almost  consumed  with  pure 

"Fll  make  a  cake,"  I  decided,  and 
started  sifting  flour,  to  work  off 
my  feelings.  It  would  be  a  delicate 
pink  and  white  cake,  with  white 
fairy  frosting.  We  would  have  a 
royal  dinner!  I  proceeded  to  make 
plans  for  it.  My  painting  was  good! 
Mr.  Bliss  had  liked  it! 

Instinctively  checking  on  little 
John  first,  I  went  to  the  front  door. 
There  he  was,  riding  pickaback  on 
Mr.  Bliss'  shoulders  all  around  the 
front  lawn.  His  arms  tight  about 
our  visitor's  neck,  laughing  joyous- 
ly, he  hung  on  as  Mr.  Bliss  trotted 
and  bounced  about  on  his  hands 
and  knees.  Frank  had  a  big  smile 
on  his  face.  Mr.  Bliss  was  smiling, 
too.    What  fun  there  was! 

I  stood  watching,  and  thought 
sadly,  no  son  of  his  own!  All  of  my 
selfishness  about  music  and  paint- 
ing swept  over  me.  I  went  remorse- 
fully back  to  the  kitchen  and 
bowed  my  head  in  thankfulness  for 
all  of  my  children— and  especially 
this  last  one,  our  beautiful  baby. 

Frank  brought  little  John  in  to 
me,  and  the  two  men  walked  to- 
gether back  to  the  college.  They 
later  went  to  lunch  together  with 
some  of  the  faculty  members  at 
the  cafeteria.  About  one-thirty 
they  returned,  bringing  a  large  suit- 
case with  them.  The  case  had  been 
made  especially  to  hold  Mr.  Bliss' 
formal  suit  to  wear  at  the  concert. 

Since  I  did  not  know  this,  I 
asked  him,  "May  I  press  your  suit 
for  you?" 

He  looked  at  me  strangely  and 
answered,  "No." 

Thoughts  of  his  appearing  in  a 
wrinkled    suit    flitted    through    my 



mind  intermittently  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  afternoon. 

I  had  straightened  our  front  bed- 
room, smoothed  the  spread,  drawn 
the  blinds,  closed  the  door,  and 
made  it  as  quiet,  inviting,  and  rest- 
ful as  possible.  There  was  a  large 
Indian  rug  on  the  floor,  and  white 
curtains,  with  wide,  soft  ruffles,  at 
the  windows.  Altogether,  it  would 
do,  I  felt,  and  Mr.  Bliss  could  rest 
and  perhaps  sleep,  if  he  wished.  In 
this  room  we  put  his  suitcase.  He 
seemed  quite  at  home,  and  I  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  the  rest  of  the  day, 
after  putting  John  to  bed  in  the 
back  room. 

While  I  finished  the  cake  and 
prepared  the  dinner,  Mr.  Bliss  set- 
tled himself  at  the  piano. 

\  FTER  a  time  I  became  aware  of 
the  music  coming  from  the  liv- 
ing room.  At  first  there  had  been 
scales  and  arpeggios  over  and  over. 
And  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  he  was  playing  our  piano  had 
been  quite  enough.  Now  I  realized 
I  was  hearing  a  melody  which  com- 
pletely captivated  me.  It  disap- 
peared, returned,  in  a  most  teasing, 
haunting  manner. 

Fascinated,  I  went  near  the  pi- 
ano. "What  a  lovely  melody  keeps 
running  through  that  .  .  .  ." 

This  comment  pleased  Mr.  Bliss 
greatly,  and  he  explained,  "It  is  the 
Warsaw  Conceito.  It  was  writ- 
ten by  a  very  young  man,  they  say, 
a  soldier.  It  is  his  first  composition. 
I  am  memorizing  it,  and  it  is  rather 
difficult,  because  I  am  memorizing 
it  from  the  orchestral  score  rather 
than  from  the  piano  score.  Some 
of  it  I  am  having  to  compose  or 
fill  in  myself.  It  is  a -beautiful  com- 

I  stood  watching  him  in  silence 
for  some  time,  thinking  about  the 
young  soldier.  Then,  noticing  how 
dark  it  was,  I  asked,  "Do  you  want 
the  light  on?" 

"No,"  he  answered,  "I  always 
practice  with  my  eyes  closed,  and 
better  in  a  dark  room.  Much  of  it 
I  do  at  night  with  the  lights  off." 

I  was  silent  again,  enchanted  with 
all  of  this. 

Finally,  I  returned  to  the  kitchen, 
listening  intently  as  the  practicing 
continued,  but  occasionally  was 
drawn  back  irresistibly  to  watch  his 
long  fingers  race  each  other  up  and 
down  the  keys. 

Once,  he  began  telling  me  about 
his  mother,  "who"  (he  explained), 
"taught  me  for  many  years  while 
I  was  young.  We  played  my  les- 
sons over  every  day  together.  She 
sat  right  by  my  side  until  we  fin- 
ished the  lesson,  an  hour  or  so  every 
day.  She  was  a  wonderful  person. 
A  wonderful  inspiration  to  me.  Her 
devotion  to  me  as  a  child  and  her 
teaching  are  the  real  reasons  I 
have  been  able  to  accomplish  what 
I  have." 

He  was  very  eloquent  in  praise 
of  his  mother,  but  extremely  mod- 
est concerning  himself.  Obviously 
he  had  loved  her  dearly. 

The  practicing  continued,  as  over 
and  over  he  played  parts  of  the 
concerto— memorizing  it.  And  the 
melody  that  threaded  its  way 
through  it  was  dyed  into  my  own 
mind  until  to  this  day  I  need  but 
to  hear  it  to  relive  my  memorable 
experience  with  that  great  pianist. 

Fearful  of  missing  a  moment,  I 
stayed  close  to  the  house.  About 
three-thirty  Mr.  Bliss  decided  to 
walk  over  to  the  church  to  familiar- 
ize himself  with  the  piano  there. 



He  had  just  settled  himself  to  re- 
hearsing his  evening  program  when 
he  was  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  a 
great  many  children  and  their  teach- 
ers with  books  and  lessons.  In  a 
matter  of  minutes  they  had  com- 
pletely taken  over  the  church  and 
there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do 
but  leave.  From  the  front  door  I 
saw  him  making  his  way  down  the 
long  front  steps  of  the  building, 
completely  surrounded  by  a  horde 
of  noisy,  disheveled  youngsters.  He 
escaped  and  returned  to  our  house 
as  fast  as  possible,  disappointed,  but 
glad  to  find  a  quiet  refuge. 

"What  was  it  over  there?"  he 
asked  me,  puzzled. 

I  laughed  a  little.  "It's  Frimaiy" 
I  answered,  feeling  unable  to  ex- 

UE  looked  at  me,  still  puzzled.  I 
made  a  few  remarks  about  chil- 
dren's religion  classes,  and  let  it  go. 

Several  times  during  the  after- 
noon Mr.  Bliss  disappeared  into  the 
bedroom,  softly  closing  the  door 
behind  him.  He  is  lying  down  to 
rest  for  awhile,  I  thought  to  my- 
self. He  would  come  out  each  time 
looking  very  much  refreshed,  as  if 
he  had  slept.  This,  and  the  con- 
certo, continued  all  afternoon. 

Later,  when  he  went  over  to  the 
church  again,  leaving  the  door  to 
his  room  open,  I  glanced  in  and 
noticed  that  the  bed  had  not  been 
touched.  Puzzled,  I  looked  about. 
The  bed  had  not  been  slept  on,  I 
was  positive.  Yet  Mr.  Bliss  had 
evidently  slept.  What  had  hap- 
pened? What  a  strange  person! 
And  how  had  he  refreshed  himself? 

When  Frank  came  home  Mr. 
Bliss  began  chatting  about  music, 
their  common  interest,  but  soon  Mr. 

Bliss  was  telling  him  all  about  his 
wife  whom  he  had  recently  mar- 

"She  is  a  lovely  wife,"  he  said 
dreamily.  "She  stopped  in  Albu- 
querque to  rest  while  I  came  on 
here.  If  I  had  known  how  it  was 
here  I  should  have  brought  her 
with  me." 

The  children  and  I  wrapped  up 
a  small  box  of  pecan  nuts  from  our 
tree  and  tied  it  with  a  ribbon. 

"Take  these  with  you.  They  are 
for  her,"  I  offered. 

He  accepted  them  eagerly.  "She 
will  like  them  very  much."  His 
eyes,  as  he  thought  of  her,  filled 
with  a  loving  light. 

I  kept  worrying  about  his  evening 
suit,  still  locked  in  the  case.  My 
husband  was  anxious,  too. 

"Do  you  want  to  get  ready  for 
the  concert  before  we  eat  or  .  .  .  ?" 
Frank  asked. 

Mr.  Bliss  just  looked  at  us  in 
that  strange  way  again,  and  said, 

The  table,  with  the  green  salad, 
salmon  loaf,  homemade  bread  and 
butter,  and  the  delicate  white  cake, 
cut  in  squares  on  little  plates,  and 
red  raspberries  from  Utah  in  our 
tall  sherbet  glasses,  made  a  very 
pleasant  looking  table.  We  sat 
down  proudly,  with  the  children 
all  around  beaming  and  smiling. 
We  asked  the  blessing,  and  then 
we  began  our  royal  meal. 

But,  to  our  surprise,  Mr.  Bliss 
declined  the  food  we  offered,  but 
said  apologetically,  "If  I  could  just 
have  this  good  bread  and  milk, 
that  is  all." 

He  insisted  upon  that  simple 
fare  but,  to  please  me,  he  ate  a  gen- 
erous piece  of  my  cake  and  the  ber- 



ries.  Seeing  him  there,  the  light 
on  his  face,  surrounded  by  my 
beaming  children,  I  felt  that  my 
own  father  was  fed. 

Having  finished,  Mr.  Bliss  jumped 
up  from  the  table  and  started  car- 
rying his  plate  into  the  kitchen, 
and  he  kept  on  until  the  whole 
table  was  cleared,  try  as  I  would  to 
make  him  feel  he  didn't  need  to 
help  at  all.  It  was  really  exciting, 
though,  having  such  a  famous  man 
carrying  the  dishes.  It  has  given  my 
housework  a  glamorous  touch  for- 
ever after. 

TT  would  soon  be  eight  o'clock, 

time  for  the  concert. 

Finally  Mr.  Bliss  went  into  the 
bedroom,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes 
out  he  came  in  a  perfectly  pressed 
black  suit,  with  tails— white,  stiff 
shirt,  and  all! 

The  church  was  filled  to  the 
brim,  and  there  were  flowers  near 
the  grand  piano. 

At  first  Mr.  Bliss  was  very  quiet 
and  formal,  but  the  friendliness  of 
the  audience  soon  affected  him,  and 
he  became  more  relaxed.  The  ap- 
plause he  received  was  genuine,  and 
I  know  he  felt  it. 

To  describe  the  scene  is  impos- 
sible for  me,  but  I  will  say  that 
none  of  us  had  ever  heard  anything 
like  it  before.  His  music  was  mar- 
velous. It  was  perfect!  And  what 
do  you  think,  for  one  of  the  en- 
cores he  played  my  "Twilight 
Dance"!  I  wonder  if  Frank  had 
anything  to  do  with  that?  I  hoped 
not.  I  would  want  that  to  have 
just  happened. 

As  soon  as  it  was  over,  we  walked 
over  to  the  dormitory  where  a  re- 
ception was  to  be  held.  Everything 
was  ready,  the  faculty  women  having 

seen  to  that,  and  the  table  was  a 
picture.  The  place  was  crowded, 
and  there  was  much  talking  and  vis- 
iting and  gaiety. 

Afterwhile  I  noticed  that  Mr. 
Bliss  was  missing.  But  where  could 
he  be?  No  one  seemed  to  know. 
He  had  just  gone. 

I  clutched  Frank's  arm  and  sug- 
gested anxiously  that  we  had  bet- 
ter find  out  what  had  happened. 
We  slipped  out  and  hurried  home 
as  soon  as  possible.  No  one  was  in 
sight.  Horror-stricken,  we  looked 
about  us.  Frank  opened  the  bed- 
room door.  There  he  was,  our 
guest,  on  the  floor!  Asleep!  But  at 
the  opening  of  the  door,  he  awak- 
ened, and  we  both  stood  staring  at 

The  question  was  in  our  faces. 

"It's  the  way  I  relax,"  he  said. 
"I  lie  down  perfectly  flat  and 
straight,  and  go  to  sleep  immediate- 

"So  that's  where  you  slept  this 
afternoon!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have  to  do  it 
to  endure  the  strenuous  work  of  my 

TT  was  nearly  time  for  the  bus,  so 

we  had  to  collect  our  thoughts, 
as  well  as  Mr.  Bliss'  things.  The 
suitcase,  the  music,  and  all,  were 
soon  ready.  After  such  an  exciting 
day  and  evening,  I  was  very  tired. 
It  was  nearly  midnight. 

"Don't  forget  the  nuts,"  I  re- 
minded him. 

Mr.  Bliss  looked  at  me  with  great 
compassion,  "You  are  tired,  aren't 
you?"  he  remarked. 

I  smiled  weakly  but  happily. 
"This  has  been  a  wonderful,  won- 
derful day,"  I  said  sincerely.  "A 
wonderful  day." 



We  said  goodbye,  and  Frank 
walked  ahead  of  him  out  to  our  old 
car,  carrying  the  suitcase.  Mr.  Bliss' 
shoulders  drooped  noticeably.  He 
looked  old.  If  we  could  just  keep 
him  here  with  us— just  us  and  the 
children  in  quiet,  peaceful  Arizona! 
They  drove  to  meet  the  bus  that 
would  take  Mr.  Bliss  to  another 
city,  another  audience,  another  ad- 

We  were  left  to  go  on  as  usual  at 
home,  but  with  something  new 
added.  Something  that  had  lifted 
us  up  and  up  and  up!  Life  would 
never  seem  dull  to  me  again.  Being 
a  mother  was  wonderful,  and  mar- 
riage—real and  beautiful— was  what 
I  wanted  after  all!  How  blessed  I 
was  with  Frank  and  the  children! 

And  dear  Mr.  Bliss.  God  go  with 
him  and  bless  him  all  of  his  life! 

&  J\m  [Partial  to    iilai/ttme 

Grace  M.  Candland 

"There  is  no  time  like  spring 
When  life's  alive  in  everything." 

— Rossetti 

IT  is  true.    This  is  a  morning  of  creation,  with  all  its  bewildering  beauty.     It  is  free 
to  everyone  who  will  take  the  time  to  see  it  and  give  an  attentive  ear  to  its  music 
and  quiet  unfolding. 

Since  the  miracle  of  spring  comes  every  year,  we  are  likely  to  become  but  casual 
observers  of  the  wonderful  awakening  all  about  us. 

The  day  begins  with  the  soft  glow  of  daybreak,  fair  as  a  garden  pink.  The  stillness 
of  this  lovely  hour  makes  one  feel  that  he  is  standing  in  the  light  of  two  worlds,  so 
thin  seems  the  curtain  between  them.  Then  the  sun  brings  one  back  to  reality.  One 
sees  the  landscape  bursting  with  new  life,  a  veritable  garden  of  Eden  rising  from  the 
frost  and  snowbound  earth  of  last  December. 

How  can  we  describe  the  teeming  growth  emerging  from  the  dewy  bath  of  the 
night?  The  jeweled  grass,  millions  of  dripping  green  buds,  flowers  of  every  hue  grow- 
ing side  by  side;  a  clear  stream  meandering  through  the  valley;  the  blackbirds'  serenade 
from  the  willows  on  its  bank;  the  meadow  lark's  song  of  praise  to  heaven.  All  have 
an  exhilarating  touch  that  no  other  season  can  have. 

Then  there  is  the  odor  of  freshly  turned  furrows  that  enhances  a  feeling  of  security 
and  joy  in  the  good  earth  which  feeds  the  body  as  well  as  the  soul. 

We  seem  to  forget  the  harsh,  unpleasant  things  of  life.  Like  the  earth,  we  are 
renewed  in  our  faith,  our  hope,  our  reverence  for  the  Author  of  all  this  beauty,  this 
fragrance  and  sweetness  that  comes  to  perfection  in  Maytime. 

*         ^r         V         'Jr 


Marfan  Schroder  Cwtheis 

The  tiny,  dormant  seeds, 

That  break  through  shrouding  sod, 

To  flower  in  perfection, 

Reveal  the  hand  of  God. 

Sixty    LJears  J/Lgo 

Excerpts  from  the  Woman's  Exponent,  May  1,  and  May  15,  1892 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

MANNERS  OF  WORKING  WOMEN:  Every  day  you  may  see  on  our  streets 
a  large  number  of  women,  who  go  quietly  and  briskly  to  their  different  vocations. 
The  majority  are  stenographers  and  clerks,  though  there  is  a  slight  sprinkling  of  dress 
makers,  telephone  exchange  girls,  compositors,  and  girls  who  work  in  book  binderies, 
and  printing  offices.  They  are  not  brusque,  masculine  creatures  as  you  might  expect; 
on  the  contrary  they  wear  bangs  and  ruffles  and  laces  just  as  other  women  do.  Some 
are  pretty  and  some  are  plain;  some  plump,  some  thin,  and  so  far  as  appearances  go, 
they  are  like  the  rest  of  womenkind  .... 

— N.  V.  D. 

TO  AN  UNKNOWN:  You  are  melancholy;  and  you  are  brooding  over  your  own 
distemper;  and  so  aggravating  it.  Neither  prayer  or  meditation  will  cure  it.  The  dif- 
ficulty is  that  you  are  self-centered.  Every  self -centered  person  must  be  either  self- 
conceited  or  melancholy  ....  You  are  making  everything  revolve  about  yourself  .... 
There  is  only  one  question:  are  you  useful?  No?  Then  become  useful  Set  yourself, 
not  to  being  happy,  but  to  doing  other  people  good.  Forget  yourself;  think  of  others 
....  It  is  of  small  consequence  whether  you  are  happy  or  not.  It  is  of  much  con- 
sequence whether  you  are  of  service  to  the  world.    Love  is  the  cure  for  melancholy. 

— Exchange 


'Tis  a  joyous  day  for  Israel, 

Lo!  the  Capstone  has  been  laid; 
Saints  and  prophets,  sires  and  sages, 

For  this  day  have  longed  and  prayed; 
See  the  mighty  hosts  assembled, 

Hear  the  hills  and  valleys  ring, 
With  the  shouts  and  loud  hosannas 

Which  they  raise  to  God  their  king  .... 

— R.  M.  F. 

WOMAN'S  WORK  IN  MEXICO:  The  scenery  from  Diaz  to  Juarez,  some 
seventy-five  miles,  is  similar  to  that  from  Deming  to  Diaz,  an  open  level  country  of  vast 
extent  with  mountains  and  hills  in  the  distance.  We  can  trace  the  windings  of  the 
Casas  Grande  river  by  the  lofty  Cottonwood  trees  growing  on  its  banks  ....  We  now 
reach  Colonia  Dublan,  a  settlement  of  our  people,  located  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 
The  houses  are  of  lumber  and  adobe.  The  farms  slope  from  the  road  to  the  river  .... 
Colonia  Juarez  is  situated  in  a  canon  on  the  Piedras  Verde  river,  which  is  lined  with 
trees  and  runs  lengthwise  through  the  town.  It  is  a  thrifty,  pretty  little  place,  like  an 
oasis  in  the  desert;  a  number  of  handsome  brick  and  concrete  houses  adorn  the 
town.  .  .  . — M. 

NURSES  AND  ACCOUCHEURS:  On  Thursday  evening,  April  29,  1892,  Dr. 
Ellis  R.  Shipp's  class  in  Obstetrics  and  Nursing  met  at  her  residence,  to  enjoy  a  few 
hours  socially  after  the  winter's  close  application  to  study  and  their  recent  examina- 
tions which  were  passed  successfully.  A  number  of  intimate  friends  met  with  them, 
our  beloved  Sister,  Zina  D.  H.  Young,  joining  in  the  congratulations  and  timely  coun- 
sels to  the  ladies  just  starting  out  upon  their  important  labors  .... 

—News  Note 
Page  296 

Woman's    Sphere 

yiSITING  in  Salt  Lake  City  re- 
cently, Mrs.  Lenora  S.  Slaugh- 
ter, executive  secretary  of  the  Miss 
America  Pageant,  stated  that  Col- 
leen Kay  Hutchins,  Utah's  Miss 
America,  has  brought  more  praise 
to  the  Pageant  than  has  ever  been 
expressed  before.  People  are  im- 
pressed by  her  wholesomeness,  her 
Teligious  and  educational  back- 
ground, her  refraining  from  drink- 
ing and  smoking.  Religious  maga- 
zines have  written  her  up  as  a  Lat- 
ter-day Saint  girl.  As  a  "goodwill 
ambassador"  for  the  United  States, 
she  has  been  on  a  South  American 
tour  and  will  soon  go  to  Europe. 

MRS.  DAVID  (Andrea  Mead) 
1  L  LAWRENCE,  of  Rutland, 
Vermont,  nineteen  years  old,  won 
the  women's  giant  slalom  ski  race 
in  the  1952  Winter  Olympics  at 
Norejfell,  Norway.  She  is  the  sec- 
ond American  woman  in  history  to 
win  an  Olympic  gold  medal  in  ski- 
ing competition. 

J£LMA  MILOTTE  and  her  hus- 
band Alfred,  naturalist  photog- 
raphers, are  in  Nairobi,  Africa,  for 
one  or  possibly  two  years,  to  record 
for  Walt  Disney's  True-Life  Ad- 
venture sagas  the  most  savage  ani- 
mal life  there.  They  do  not  resort 
to  firearms  or  other  lethal  weapons, 
but  lense  their  quarry  from  jungle 
ambush  and  waterhole  blinds. 

Rainona  W.  Cannon 

MRS.  CHRISTEN  (Juliaetta 
X  L  Bateman)  JENSEN,  of  Pro- 
vo,  died  January  21.  Mrs.  Jensen 
will  be  remembered  for  her  story 
of  her  Mormon  pioneer  mother's 
life,  Little  Gold  Pieces  and  for 
teaching  large  groups  of  women  in 
such  literary  subjects  as  world  lit- 
erature, Browning,  and  the  Bible. 

A  Letter  to  My  Son  is  an  inter- 
estingly written  book  by  Ora 
Pate  Stewart,  which  will  impress 
readers— young  or  old— with  the 
high  value  of  moral  stability, 
especially  a  life  of  chastity. 

l\TOMEN'S  Air  Force  Sergeant 
Dorthe  Isenhour,  a  Latter-day 
Saint  girl  from  Salt  Lake  City,  is 
"right  arm"  assistant  to  Chaplain 
Raymond  Mattheson  at  Samson  Air 
Force  Base,  New  York.  She  helps 
encourage  the  religious  and  moral 
welfare  of  servicemen  and  their  de- 
pendents at  the  base.  She  aids 
many  welfare  projects,  including 
operating  audio-visual  devices  used 
in  religious  instruction. 

1  l  SEN)  JELTE,  of  Salt  Lake 
City,  a  convert  to  the  Church  from 
Sweden,  is  now  ninety-five  years  old 
and  spends  much  time  knitting, 
crocheting,  and  visiting  her  family, 
down  to  the  seven  great-great  grand- 

Page  297 


VOL  39 

MAY  1952 

NO.  5 

of  he  [Pursuit  of  dtapptness 

HpHE  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence declares,  "We  hold  these 
truths  to  be  self  evident:  That  all 
men  are  created  equal;  that  they  are 
endowed  by  their  Creator  with  cer- 
tain unalienable  rights;  that  among 
these  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pur- 
suit of  happiness." 

In  every  age  of  history  man  has 
sought  for  happiness.  Today,  in 
the  throes  of  uncertainty  and  tribu- 
lation, the  people  of  the  world  seem 
to  have  lost  the  knowledge  of  how 
happiness  is  attained,  and  pursue  a 
mad  whirl  searching  for  it  in  wick- 
edness. The  word  of  God  "wicked- 
ness never  was  happiness"  goes  un- 

In  spite  of  this  longing  for  happi- 
ness, many  people  defile  the  mar- 
riage vows.  Selfish  interests  and 
self-gratification  rob  innocent  chil- 
dren of  the  sanctity  of  a  righteous 
home.  Some  people  seek  happiness 
in  a  withdrawal  from  the  world. 
Legion  are  the  number  who  pur- 
sue happiness  through  the  pursuit 
of  wealth,  often  selling  their  honor 
and.  debasing  their  souls  for  material 
possessions.  Men  grasp  power  by 
crushing  the  weak  and,  as  tools  of 
Satan,  repudiate  the  very  existence 
of  their  God,  while  ostensibly  seek- 
ing happiness. 

To  a  Latter-day  Saint  it  seems 
incredible  that  man  can  be  so  blind 
to  happiness.  The  Prophet  Joseph 
declared,  "Happiness  is  the  object 
and   design   of  our   existence;   and 

Page  298 

will  be  the  end  thereof,  if  we  pur- 
sue the  path  that  leads  to  it;  and 
this  path  is  virtue,  uprightness, 
faithfulness,  holiness,  and  keeping 
all  the  commandments  of  God.  But 
we  cannot  keep  all  the  command- 
ments without  first  knowing  them, 
and  we  cannot  expect  to  know  all, 
or  more  than  we  now  know  unless 
we  comply  with  or  keep  those  we 
have  already  received"  (D.H.C.  V, 

Relief  Society  was  given  to  the 
daughters  of  God  to  help  them  pur- 
sue and  attain  happiness.  Women 
often  become  so  burdened  in  their 
household  and  mother  duties  and 
cares  that  there  is  a  tendency  to 
lose  contact  with  others  and  con- 
fine their  good  works  to  their  own 
family  circle.  Relief  Society  en- 
larges the  souls  of  the  sisters  and 
guides  them  in  service  to  others. 
Through  its  studies  and  work  it 
inculcates  "virtue,  uprightness,  faith- 
fulness, holiness"  and  teaches  the 
commandments  of  God. 

Serving  the  less  fortunate,  com- 
forting the  sorrowing,  visiting  the 
distressed,  kindle  a  love  within  the 
heart  which  warms  and  glows, 
radiating  happiness  throughout 
one's  being.  Through  greater  for- 
getfulness  of  self  the  spirit  reaches 
out  until,  at  times,  there  comes  a 
flooding  happiness  which  seems  to 
foreshadow  the  blessedness  of  the 
eternity  to  come. 

More  and  more  one  meditates 
upon    the    selflessness    of    Christ. 



How  rare  were  the  occasions  when  soever  shall  do  the  will  of  my 
he  could  be  alone!  Day  and  night  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same 
the  multitudes  followed  him.  So  is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  moth- 
dedicated  was  he  to  the  world  that  er"  (Matt.  12:47-50). 
once  when  he  was  told,  "thy  mother  Relief  Society  trains  the  sisters 
and  thy  brethren  stand  without,  of  the  Church  for  happiness.  The 
desiring  to  speak  with  thee,"  he  an-  pursuit  of  happiness  ends  in  love 
swered,  "Who  is  my  mother?  and  of  God  and  service  to  fellow  men, 
who  are  my  brethren?  And  he  and  only  by  walking  this  path  of 
stretched  forth  his  hand  toward  his  light  in  righteousness  will  one  reap 
disciples,  and  said,  Behold  my  happiness  here  and  hereafter, 
mother  and  my  brethren!  For  who-  — M.  C.  S. 




his  W.  Schow 



Our  young  mother  taught  us  to  gladden  our  eyes 
With  the  bright  cyclorama  that  moves  through  the  skies; 
To  circle  the  earth  upon  fiction's  bold  wings — 
Through  the  practical  use  of  impractical  things. 

To  kindle  tired  minds  with  the  sunset's  warm  glow, 
To  gloat  over  jewels  of  crystalline  snow, 
To  harvest  the  manna  the  summer  rain  brings — 
Through  the  practical  use  of  impractical  things. 

To  ward  off  the  blows  that  the  world  made  us  bear, 
By  the  armor  of  honor  she  gave  us  to  wear; 
To  drink  to  our  fill  at  the  truth's  hidden  springs — 
Through  the  practical  use  of  impractical  things. 

Our  mother  was  wise,  though  our  mother  was  young; 
The  shawl  of  affection  she  carelessly  flung 
About  us  had  more  warmth  than  robes  worn  by  kings — 
Through  the  practical  use  of  impractical  things. 

1 1  tan    lib 

,at[    1 1  coming 

Wanda  E.  Rhodes 

The  lilac's  perfume  fills  the  air, 
The  iris  is  in  bloom, 
But  I  must  stay  inside  today 
And  clean  this  cluttered  room. 

A  book  lies  open  on  the  chair, 
I  long  to  know  its  ending, 
But  who  can  treat  a  novel  fair 
While  over  dishes  bending? 

My  fingers  yearn  to  scratch  the  soil, 
And  pet  the  tulip  buds; 
Oh,  must  I  stay  indoors  and  toil 
In  tubs  of  foaming  suds? 

Nay!  A  robin  calls  me  out  to  play 
With  saucy  criticism. 
A  plague  to  household  tasks  in  May! 
I  will  escape  this  prison. 

yiDtSLbu    TO  THE  FIELD 

[Preview  of  JLessons  to   IBe  in  the  fyune    1 1 Lagazine 

The  general  board  is  pleased  to  announce  that  the  previews  of  the 
lessons  for  1952-53  will  appear  in  the  June  issue  of  The  Relief  Society  Maga- 
zine, rather  than  in  the  July  issue.  This  will  enable  Relief  Society  class 
leaders  to  begin  to  plan  their  work  for  the  ensuing  year  earlier  than 

<J\  ^Portrait 

Doris  JRiter 

He  painted  a  picture  of  dimpled  face, 
A  childish  figure  in  ribbons  and  lace, 
With  bluest  of  eyes  and  soft  flaxen  hair 
And  the  picture's  fair  as  the  child  is  fair 
But,  oh,  there's  one  thing  he  could  not  impart 
The  love  for  the  child  in  the  mother's  heart. 


Sharing  Sunshine 

Helen  A.  Nielsen 

ONE  bright  spring  day,  I  met  a  quiet  woman  with  her  arms  full  of  manzanita.  Shy, 
almost  to  the  point  of  timidity,  she  offered  me  a  bouquet.  At  the  time  of  the 
year  when  cultured  blooms  were  not  yet  ready  to  decorate  our  home,  it  was  indeed 
a  welcome  gift.  Its  sturdiness  bespoke  the  rocky  hillside  from  which  it  had  come. 
Its  delicate  pink  color  told  of  brilliant-colored  sands  swirled  around  its  roots  by  rivulets 
of  rain  water. 

While  decorating  the  dining-room  table,  one  had  visions  of  rocks  glistening  with 
quartz,  stones  worn  smooth  by  rushing  flood  waters  from  the  hollow,  and  aromatic 
sage,  cedar,  and  pine. 

Oh,  there  was  more  than  a  few  sprigs  of  manzanita  on  our  dining-room  table! 
There  were  memories  of  springtime  hikes,  the  joy  of  having  to  use  every  part  of  one's 
lungs  to  conquer  the  mountainside,  and  a  picnic  eaten  with  hunger,  and  spiced  with 
sand,  with  never  enough  water  to  quench  the  thirst.  And  the  remembered  thrill  of 
that  one  sip  of  water  someone  was  kind  enough  to  share.  One  remembered  the  blue 
sky  and  the  warm  sun  upon  a  bare  head.  Yes,  that  simple  bouquet  told  many  tales, 
and  reminded  one  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  all  his  children  here  upon  the  earth  he 
created  for  them. 

I  had  one  bouquet,  but  as  I  went  from  home  to  home,  I  found  manzanita  on  the 
mantles,  on  the  tables,  and  on  the  dressing  tables  of  the  homes  I  visited.  Upon  inquir- 
ing, I  found  at  least  six  others  with  whom  my  friend  had  shared  her  springtime  walk. 
Can  one  estimate  the  joy  of  that  one  armful  of  manzanita  gathered  in  the  quiet  of  a 
sun-warmed  spring  day? 

Page  300 

of  kings    I  flu    II  to  the  r  of  aught    Hie 

Matia  McClelhnd  Bmk 

TN  looking  back  over  my  life  and  considering  the  most  worthwhile  things  in  it,  I  feel 
•*•  everlasting  gratitude  to  my  mother.  So  many  things  that  are  fundamental  to  success 
and  happiness  came  from  her. 

My  mother  taught  me  how  to  pray.  I  cannot  remember  when  I  learned  the 
Lord's  prayer.  Our  nightly  petitions  besought  God's  loving  care  for  those  dear  to  us, 
and  always  wound  up  "and  bless  everybody  in  the  world."  Can  a  child  utter  such  a 
prayer  nightly  and  hate  anyone?  I  have  friends  of  many  colors,  races,  and  creeds.  As 
the  years  go  on,  even  in  time  of  war,  I  can  still  make  that  petition  sincerely  for  all  of 
God's  children. 

My  mother  taught  me  to  love  the  scriptures.  We  lived  on  a  ranch,  and  I  was 
never  in  a  church  until  after  I  was  fourteen,  but  we  kept  the  Sabbath.  A  friend  sent 
us  Sunday  School  lessons,  and  every  Sunday  we  studied  them. 

Long  years  have  passed  since  those  Sunday  sessions,  but  I  often  remember,  in  time 
of  need,  some  verse  of  scripture  memorized,  or  some  vivid  Bible  story  my  mother  read 
in  her  earnest,  dramatic  voice. 

Whenever  I  hear  the  magnificent  cadences  of  the  nineteenth  psalm,  "The  heav- 
ens declare  the  glory  of  God;  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handywork,"  I  see  a 
grove  of  nine  cottonwoods  providing  a  shady  haven  to  four  listening  girls.  Or  when 
I  hear  the  twenty-third  psalm,  'The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,"  I  see  the  same  group,  cozily 
warm  in  winter,  around  a  sheet-iron  stove;  always  with  the  happy  leader,  slender,  fair, 
auburn-haired  and  absorbed.  Many  were  the  passages  of  scripture  that  mother  taught 
us  from  memory,  for  not  only  was  her  heart  in  God's  word,  but  much  of  God's  word 
was  in  her  heart. 

My  father,  much  older  than  my  mother,  had  a  fine  voice  and  sang  the  old  bal- 
lads beautifully,  yet  it  was  my  mother  who  taught  us  to  sing,  usually  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  a  guitar  which  she  played  very  well.  I  have  often  heard  her  say  that  she  did 
not  have  a  good  voice,  but,  though  not  very  strong,  it  was  clear  and  true.  We  learned 
to  sing,  and  all  four  of  us  have  found  joy  in  singing  through  the  years. 

My  mother  taught  me  to  love  poetry,  and  must  have  early  planted  rhythm  in  my 
mind.  In  that  desert  country  we  did  not  know  the  grandeur  of  northern  winters,  but 
one  of  my  early  memories  is  of  an  imagined  towering  peak  that  I  visualized  when  my 
mother  quoted: 

"Mont  Blanc  is  the  monarch  of  mountains; 
They  crowned  him  long  ago 
On  a  throne  of  rocks,  in  a  robe  of  clouds, 
With  a  diadem  of  snow." 

— "Manfred,"  by  Lord  Byron 

Many  such  stanzas  came  singing  to  my  heart.  With  such  a  background,  it  is  not 
surprising  that  three  of  us  girls  have  carved  a  small  niche  for  ourselves  in  the  world 
of  poetry. 

Later,  when  my  father  died  and  we  moved  into  town,  where  my  mother  taught 
in  the  public  schools,  we  learned  a  good  many  other  things.  Among  these  things  were 
the  courage  to  work;  the  need  to  hold  up  our  heads  and  earn  our  way  instead  of  expect- 
ing others  to  do  for  us;  the  habit  of  scrupulous  honesty;  the  need  to  help  others  less 
fortunate  than  we;  and  the  habit  of  saying  something  good  about  others  or  keeping  still. 

Page  301 



It  has  been  many  years  since  I  have  spent  much  time  with  mother,  but  often  my 
heart  turns  in  gratitude  to  this  little  retired  teacher,  now  bent  and  white-haired,  but 
still  peppery  at  times,  full  of  ambition  and  as  active  as  the  doctor  and  her  health  will 

She  writes  charming  letters  to  us,  her  children,  to  her  doting  grandchildren,  and 
to  a  legion  of  friends  and  former  pupils.  She  makes  keepsakes  and  doll  clothes  for  her 
seven  great-grandchildren,  and  loves  to  hear  news  of  them. 

We  often  smile  at  the  way  things  were  done  long  ago.  But  in  the  days  of  doubt 
and  turmoil,  I  often  wonder  if  I  have  given  my  children  as  much  to  live  by,  as  much 
to  hold  close  in  memory,  as  she,  my  mother,  gave  to  me. 


Some  St 

>ome  Qjprtng 

Grace  Sayre 

Some  spring,  when  lilacs  wave  their  purple  plumes 
And  sweet  wisteria  hangs  her  pendant  blooms, 
Through  starry  night  and  mystic  petal  rain, 
I'll  sense  the  fragrant  spring  along  the  lane. 
Where  fields  of  clover  scent  the  greening  land; 
There  I'll  wave  a  longing,  beckoning  hand, 
Wishing  again  for  this  ecstatic  dream, 
My  heart's  swift  rapture  where  the  spring  stars  gleam. 

■  m  * 

kYL     fleedte  and  cJhread    utobbt[ 

Martha    Jones,    Provo,    Utah,    Has 
Made  Sixty  Wedding  Quilts 

ii  AUNT"  Martha  Jones  of  Provo, 
■**  Utah,  who  is  sometimes  affection- 
ately called  "Grandma  Jones,"  has  de- 
veloped a  hobby  which  keeps  her  happy 
and  brings  much  joy  to  others.  In  her 
later  years  she  has  completed  sixty  wed- 
ding quilts,  as  well  as  many  other  quilts 
of  different  patterns.  Shown  with  Mrs. 
Jones  in  the  picture  are  a  double  wed- 
ding ring  quilt  and  a  silk  quilt  of  double 
fan  design.  The  silk  quilt  was  made  for  a 
woman  from  South  Africa  who  visited  in 
Utah  during  the  past  summer. 

An  active  Relief  Society  worker,  Sister 
Jones  has  served  for  twenty-two  years  as 
an  officer  and  forty  years  as  a  visiting 
teacher.  The  mother  of  seven  children, 
she  still  found  time  for  nursing  and  for 
community  service.  Now,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-four,  she  is  grateful  for  the  time 
which  she  can  spend  on  her  favorite 
hobby — quiltmaking. 


Every  Night  at  Our  House 

Thelma  Hatch 

WE  have  lots  of  good  times  at 
our  house— turkey  dinners, 
birthday  parties,  blizzards, 
and  everything  that  makes  life  full. 
But  there  is  one  time  that  will 
always  stand  out  above  the  rest  in 
my  memory.    That  is  bedtime. 

Night  begins  to  roll  over  the  val- 
ley, and  before  we  can  finish  our 
bread  and  milk,  it  drops  a  little 
darkness  that  hovers  over  our  house 
on  the  hill.  As  Grandpa  always 
said,  it's  a  good  thing  our  house 
was  built  on  a  hill.  Just  the  six  of 
us  keep  its  foundations  rocking  con- 

A  family  of  six  isn't  so  big,  just 
Daddy,  Mother,  a  big  sister,  Col- 
leen, then  in-between  me,  the 
brother  LeRoy,  then  last,  but  not 
least,  the  pin-cushion  of  the  family, 

This  really  isn't  a  big  family,  but 
it's  the  other  members  that  add  up. 
Other  members,  like  Maybell's  pet 
chicken,  pet  lamb,  pet  dog,  another 
pet  dog,  pet  horse,  pet  frog,  pet  pig, 
and  pets  are  so  attachable. 

These  members  are  not  really  un- 
welcome, but  there  is  one  little  bit 
of  humanity  that  is!  It  steps  into 
the  family  tree  just  about  when 
we're  through  with  our  bread  and 
milk.  It's  the  unpardonable,  un- 
forgiving clock. 

Mother  must  feel  something  in 
the  air  about  this  time,  because,  at 
the  same  time  every  night,  her  head 
turns  in  the  same  direction,  to 
look  at  the  same  clock,  on  the  same 
shelf,  with  the  same  meaning. 


We  four  offspring  run  for  refuge, 
but  the  selfish  little  clock  still  says 
eight  o'clock,  just  as  haughty  as  any 
clock  can  say  it,  without  saying  a 

Again  Mother  gives  the  signal. 

It's  very  hard  to  hear  from  one 
room  to  the  other. 

"Bedtime!"  Oh-oh,  this  time 
Mother  means  it.  She  has  the  fly 
swatter.  Then  what  follows  is  as 
regular  as  the  sun  rising  and  set- 
ting. LeRoy  moans  a  ten-year-old 
moan,  puts  down  his  book,  and 
worms  himself  into  the  kitchen. 
This  time  it's  carrots,  lettuce,  rais- 
ins, bread  crusts,  and  "Haven't  we 
anything  to  eat,  Mom?" 

Mother  doesn't  hear.  She  has 
her  head  behind  the  hall  door 
searching  frantically  for  Maybell's 
pajamas.  "Now  think,  Maybell, 

This  is  where  I  put  down  my 
algebra,  almost  too  gladly,  and  head 
for  the  bathroom.  Of  course  Col- 
leen is  already  there,  putting  up  her 
hair.  Someday  maybe  I'll  be  a  sen- 
ior, too! 

A  rumble  is  heard  as  LeRoy 
dumps  his  loot  on  his  dresser,  then 
he  runs  down  the  hall  and  calls, 
"Hurry  up!" 

Colleen  finally  sails  dreamily  out 
of  the  bathroom  and  down  the  hall 
to  our  bedroom.  She  must  have 
had  a  date  last  night. 

Mother  comes  storming  into  the 
bathroom.  "Thelma,  where  are 
they?  You  always  hang  them  up. 
Now  think,  Thelma,  thinkr 

Page  303 


Now,  where  do   I   think  I   put  be  his   shirt  and   the  bottoms  of 

Maybell's    pajamas    this    morning?  MaybelFs   pajamas   that  he  grabs. 

I  haven't  the  faintest  idea,  but  I  He  gets  as  far  as  the  dining  room, 

try  to  sound  hopeful.  "Did  you  look  then  drops  his  brief  case  as  a  signal, 

behind  the  hall  door?"  Then    all   the   family   come   from 

Mother  sighs.  everywhere    and    kneel    down    for 

Nearly  every  night  I  look  behind  family  prayers.    Although  all  is  not 

the  hall  door  for  MaybelFs  pajamas,  peace  and  quiet  afterwards,  a  spirit 

and    often    little   Maybell   has    to  of   love   and    thankfulness    lingers 

sleep  in  something  else.    Maybell  with  us. 

slides  down  the  hall  to  the  middle  Mother  thinks  she  will  go  see  if 

bedroom.  Daddy  looks  the  same  as  he  did  last 

Off  in  the  distance  a  terrific  sound  night  when  he  was  running  to  a 

is  accumulating.    Maybell  describes  meeting.     "It  might  not  even  be 

it  as  a  geyser  going  off.     But  it's  the  same  man,"  she  sighs.    She  runs 

only  Daddy  tearing  from  the  barn  to  one  end  of  the  hall  just  to  see 

to   the   house.    "I'll   be   late,"   he  Daddy  run  out  the  other  end.  But 

gasps,  "late  again/"  as  he  heads  into  we  catch  the  scent  of  his  face  lo- 

his  bedroom  and  slams  the  door.  tion,  and  Mother  smiles,  "It's  the 

/Wr  in  the  hall  I  sit  down  and  same"     It  used  to  be  his  hair  oil 

U  contemplate.    Is  this  Wednes-  that  we   smelled,   but  he   doesnt 

day  again?    Daddy  is  going  to  his  ne*d  ^at  ^3™*-      J-.       A 

stake    presidency    meeting,    so    it  Mother  finaI1Y  has  Maybell  and 

must  be.    I  never  remember  a  cal-  LeRoY  tucked  awaY  in  the  mi<fdle 

endar  hanging  in  our  house.    We  bedroom.    She  doesn  t  expect  them 

have  a  system  all  our  own,  and  it's  to  go  to  sleep  so  early,  but  the  at- 

verv  simple.  tempt  is  made.     She  wearily  goes 

When  Daddy  goes  to  a  Sunday  to  her  back  bedroom  and  lies  down, 

School  meeting,  it's  Monday;  when  hoping  to  sleeP-     lt  1S  now  after 

he  goes  to  a  Mutual  meeting  it's  nme  o'clock,  and  all  lights  have  to 

Tuesday;  on  Wednesday  night  he  be  out. 

goes  to  a  stake  presidency  meeting;  I  know  what  to  expect  when  I  go 
Friday  night  is  a  dance  directors  into  our  front  bedroom.  Colleen  is 
meeting.  Saturday  night  he  goes  in  bed  reading  her  missionary's  let- 
to  a  ward  conference;  and  when  ters.  I  sit  on  the  floor  and  listen 
Daddy  goes  to  church  all  day-it's  and  listen  and  listen,  just  like  I 
Sunday.  wanted  to  be  converted. 

Really   there   is   no   need   for   a  From   the   middle   bedroom   we 

calendar.  hear  a  yelp  from  LeRoy,  guardian 

Outside  a  honk  is  heard.     The  of   the    food,    and    then    Maybell, 

stake  president  is  honking  for  his  "Well,  Mother,  LeRoy  won't  give 

first      counselor.      Swish!      Daddy  me  any  raisins!" 
rushes  through  the  bedroom  door, 

grabbing  a  handful  of  clothing  and  VITHEN  I  climb  in  bed  for  what 

takes  the  forty  yard  dash  down  the  I  hope  will  be  the  last  time 

hall.    Someday  it  will  turn  out  to  at  night,  and  it  is  usually  after  ten 


o'clock,  I  find  Colleen  reading  army  and  then  the  little  angel  creeps  back 

letters  this  time.    We  haven't  quite  into  bed. 

decided  if  our  new  brother  will  be  As  the  course  of  the  night  wears 

a  missionary  or  a  soldier.  on,  Mother  wonders  if  the  water 

At  last  Collen  turns  off  our  light,  hose  is  still  on  the  pansies,  but, 

only  to  call  out,  "Mother,  some-  since  it  is  after  nine,  I  can't  turn 

body  left  the  yard  light  on!"  on  the  lights. 

Mother  calls  down  the  hall  and  I  take  the  journey  to  the  pansy 

says  since  Colleen  is  the  oldest  she  bed  and  swim  the  flood.    Also  I 

had  better  go  turn  it  off.     Then  usually  lock  myself  out  of  the  house 

Colleen  remembers  that  she  forgot  and  have  to  detour  to  the  back  door, 

to   write   in   her   diary  and   begs,  Mother  groans  about  her  teeth, 

"Thelma,  if  you'll  turn  it  off  to-  and  LeRoy  has  finished  all  but  one 

night,  I'll  just  love  you."  carrot. 

Of  course,  I  don't  want  any  hard  Back   in   bed   once   more,   time 

feelings,  so  I  go  outside  and  turn  wears  on,  and  finally  Daddy  comes 

out  the  light.    Some  night  if  I  get  home.    Mother  thinks  it  was  surely 

electrocuted    on    that    yard    light,  a    good,    long    meeting.     Maybell 

there  will  be   a   ghost  wandering  thinks  we've  had  a  nice  time,  too. 

around.  The   minute   Daddy   opens   the 

Mother  sweetly  calls  down  the  door,  Maybell  starts  to  giggle.  Dad- 
hall  to  see  if  we  have  our  windows  dy  puts  down  his  brief  case  and  de- 
open,  and  Maybell  decides  she  for-  mands,  "Great  Scott!  Aren't  you 
got  to  say  her  prayers.  We  are  kids  asleep  yet?" 
very  quiet  while  every  person,  place,  "Yes,"  we  all  answer  in  a  chorus, 
and  thing  in  the  world  is  blessed,  "you  just  woke  us  up!" 

IKecipe  for  ^rLmertcan  L^hop  Suey 

Lik  B.  Smith 

I  like  to  make  chop  suey  in  the  morning  when  I  am  going  out  to  Relief  Society 
or  Primary,  and  have  it  ready  to  pop  in  the  oven  the  minute  I  get  home.  The  de- 
licious aroma  that  comes  from  the  oven  while  it  is  baking  delights  everyone.  This 
recipe  also  makes  a  very  good  luncheon  dish  for  the  Relief  Society  work  meeting. 


Vz  lb.  sausage 

Vz   lb.    ground    beef 

large  chopped  onions 

salt  and  pepper 

Fry  till  brown,  drain  off  the  grease. 


1  pt.  tomatoes 

1  c.  cooked  rice  ; 

i  c.  cooked  macaroni 

i  c.   white   sauce  made   with   the 

grease   in   which   the  meat   was 

Sprinkle  cracker  crumbs  on  top,  and  bake  45  minutes  at  375°. 

You  can  use  all  ground  beef,  if  you  care  to,  instead  of  part  sausage,  and  you  can 
add  one  can  of  mushroom  soup,  just  as  it  comes  in  the  can,  in  place  of  white  sauce. 
Both  ways  are  delicious. 

This  recipe  serves  ten. 

Hal  Rumel 


*yx  C< 


ertatn  wieage 

Harriett  L.  George 

A  tree  stands  like  a  certain  pledge 

Of  God's  unfailing  love; 

So  sturdy  and  dependable, 

It  reaches  far  above 

The  other  growing  things  of  earth; 

And  he  who  plants  a  tree 

Has  placed  his  hand  in  that  of  God 

For  all  the  world  to  see. 

A  storm  may  lay  the  garden  low 
And  strip  the  shrubs  of  bloom, 
May  scatter  fear  in  human  hearts, 
Create  an  air  of  gloom. 
But  when  the  sky  is  clear  again 
And  men  resume  their  calm, 
The  tree  stands  firmly  in  its  place, 
Its  strength  a  healing  balm. 

Page  306 

Uncertain  Possession 

Chapter  5 
Beatrice  R.  Parsons 

Synopsis:  Lorna  Ash  ton,  an  orphan, 
who  has  no  home  of  her  own  and  has 
lived  with  a  cousin,  marries  Dr.  Matthew 
Wire  and  goes  to  live  in  Westfield,  Ne- 
vada. She  is  afraid  that  Matthew's  rela- 
tives and  friends  and  even  his  patients, 
will  continue  to  mean  so  much  to  him 
that  he  will  never  belong  wholly  to  her. 
However,  she  gradually  finds  a  place  for 
herself  in  the  community  and  in  the  af- 
fections of  Uncle  John,  Nurse  Hallie,  and 
Carole,  a  little  neighbor  girl.  She  meets 
Anne  Clayton  and  Jeanne  Beatty,  friends 
of  Matthew's,  and  becomes  acquainted 
with  Jim  Nason,  an  eccentric  recluse, 
who  has  been  asked  to  help  financially 
with  the  building  of  a  much-needed  hos- 
pital in  Sky  Valley.  Two  small  china 
kittens,  which  Lorna  has  treasured  since 
childhood,  have  become  to  her  a  symbol 
of  possession,  and  yet  she  gradually  learns 
to  share  herself  and  her  husband  with 

DURING  the  days  which  fol- 
lowed one  another  like 
bright,  shimmering  beads  in 
a  necklace  of  hours,  Lorna  grew 
more  and  more  used  to  living  in 
Westfield,  although  she  had  never 
given  up  her  dream  of  going  back 
to  Utah,  and  Doctors'  Center. 

However,  she  talked  little  about 
it  to  Matt.  Since  the  time  Jim 
Nason  had  talked  to  her,  she  had 
seemed  to  know  that  Matt  would 
not  like  to  leave  Westfield.  He 
still  had  his  dream  of  a  hospital 
for  Sky  Valley.  She  wanted  to  shake 
Jim  Nason.  With  all  that  money, 
he  would  have  nothing  but  a  fool- 
ish statue  of  himself  to  show  for  it! 

She  knew  the  people  needed  a 
hospital,  but  there  was  nothing  she 
could  do  to  help  them  get  one.    So 

she  pushed  the  thought  from  her 
mind  and  dreamed  of  living  in  her 
own  home  town  once  again. 

Lorna  was  often  alone,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  Matt  sometimes  took 
her  with  him  when  he  went  to  pay 
calls.  Once  in  a  while  Matt  and 
Lorna  drove  to  a  neighboring 
farm  or  ranch  where  mumps,  meas- 
les, or  chicken-pox  held  children 

Lorna  amused  herself  by  making 
scrapbooks  from  cut-outs  from  the 
pages  of  magazines.  Matt's  office 
was  filled  with  medical  magazines. 
And  there  were  all  of  Hallie's  R.  N. 
magazines,  but  none  of  the  pictures 
were  for  small  children. 

So  Lorna  bought  and  read  the 
women's  magazines,  then  cut  them 
up  for  pictures.  Always,  she  was 
rewarded  by  a  smile  from  some 
small  bulging,  or  speckled,  little 

So  the  days  cut  themselves  into 
a  pattern.  There  were  her  light 
household  duties.  The  old  house 
was  not  hard  to  keep  clean,  and  she 
used  her  wedding  gifts  to  make  it 
attractive.  Matt  said  she  could 
have  lived  in  a  barn  and  soon  would 
have  made  it  over  into  a  home.  She 
liked  hearing  him  praise  her,  and 
kept  the  house  spic-and-span  for 

She  also  tried  to  take  as  many 
burdens  as  she  could  from  Hallie's 
stiff,  unbending  shoulders.  Hallie 
never  thanked  her.  But  Matt's  grin 
showed  that  he  knew.  And  under- 

Page  307 



Matt  and  Uncle  John  tried  hard 
to  keep  office  hours  from  ten  until 

More  often  than  not,  they  ran 
until  six  or  seven.  And  aside  from 
his  duties  as  general  practitioner, 
Matt  was  also  a  local  health  officer. 
Sometimes  he  had  to  drive  into 
neighboring  towns  to  check  on 

Lorna  looked  ruefully  into  his 
tired  face.  "I  know  how  it  is, 
Matt.  Besides  the  physical  exer- 
tion of  your  twelve,  fourteen,  and 
sometimes  almost  twenty-four-hour 
days,  there's  the  emotional  strain, 
too.  I  can  feel  it  when  you're  with 
a  sick  child.  Or  when  Jeanne  calls 
and  you  sit  and  look  at  her,  almost 

There  was  an  unspoken  question 
in  her  tone,  and  Matt  nodded  al- 
most imperceptibly.  "She's  been 
complaining,  lately,  about  tiny, 
shooting  pains  from  the  tips  of  her 
fingers  to  the  back  of  her  neck  . .  .  /' 

"And  that  could  mean,  Matt?" 
prompted  Lorna  worriedly. 

"It  could  mean  .  .  ."  he  began, 
then  shook  his  head  as  though  to 
dispel  such  a  notion.  "It  could 
mean  nothing  except  that  Jeanne 
is  tired.  She  taught  school  all 
winter.  And  all  summer  she's  been 
conducting  classes  for  those  chil- 
dren who  didn't  make  their  grades. 
She  needs  a  rest." 

"Why  not  send  her  away,  Matt!" 
Lorna's  voice  had  been  eager.  But 
it  tensed  as  Matt  glanced  into  her 
face  with  puzzled  eyes.  "Oh,  no," 
she  cried  quickly,  knowing  that  he 
was  remembering  the  wild  hawk 
which  had  intruded  into  their  tight 
little  twosome.  "Oh,  no,  Matt!  I 
didn't  mean  it  that  way  .  .  .  ." 

Matt's  eyes  were  deep  and  tender. 
"I'm  sure  you  didn't,  Lorna." 

She  groped  for  words,  still  flushed, 
a  little  ashamed.  "If  there  was 
only  some  way  to  make  her  take  a 
vacation.  If  you  could  order  her 
to  rest.  Perhaps  I  could  take  over 
her  classes  until  .  .  .  ." 

She  didn't  know  how  to  finish 
with  Matt  looking  at  her  like  that. 
She  and  Jeanne  hadn't  been  very 
close  since  Lorna  had  come  to  West- 
field,  and  yet  she  had  a  great 
sympathy  for  anyone  who  needed 
to  leave  Westfield,  even  for  a  little 

Matt  considered:  "I  could  send 
her  away.  Somewhere.  Perhaps 
California."  He  planned  swiftly: 
"You  can  suggest  it  .  .  .  ." 

"Matt!"  Lorna  was  on  her  feet, 
protesting  weakly:  "I  couldn't.  I'd 
be  afraid  .  .  .  ." 

"Afraid!"  Matt  smiled.  "Why 
should  you  be  afraid  of  Jeanne? 
Or  anyone  for  that  matter?  I  had 
a  feeling  that  you  were  getting  over 
some  of  your  shyness,  your  ridicu- 
lous fears."    * 

Lorna  was  flushed,  miserable  as 
she  sat  down.  "I  guess  I'll  never 
be  cured,  Matt,"  she  said  thinly. 

He  came  over  and  kissed  her.  "Of 
course  you  will,  darling,"  he  said 
reassuringly.  Then  he  straightened 
up  and  confessed:  "It's  really  noth- 
ing to  be  afraid,  Lorna.  Why, 
plenty  of  times  I'm  scared,  too. 
That's  one  of  the  penalties— if  there 
are  penalties— of  being  a  doctor. 
No  man  can  study  the  chart  of  an 
eight-year-old  pneumonia  victim 
without  wondering  if  the  miracle 
drug,  penicillin,  can  reduce  tem- 
perature to  normal  within  twenty- 
four  hours.     I  can't  think  of  Mar- 



garet  without  feeling  an  impotent 
rage  that  I  cannot  cure  her.  I 
can't  think  of  Jeanne  without 
imagining  the  worst.  Brain  tu- 
mor ....,"  He  broke  off,  saying 
gravely:  "I'll  send  her  to  a  hospital 
for  X-rays.  If  only  we  had  our  hos- 
pital. .  .  ." 

He  stopped,  as  though  the  things 
that  were  pressing  down  upon  him 
were  more  than  he  could  bear. 
Lorna  watched  him  pacing  the 
room,  and  told  herself,  once  more, 
and  this  time  with  an  assurance 
she  had  never  felt  before,  that  she 
must  talk  Matt  into  leaving  West- 
field,  the  minute  his  uncle  was 
ready  to  take  over  his  patients 
again.  Matt's  own  patients,  at 
Doctors'  Center,  would  have  all  the 
modern  facilities,  and  he  wouldn't 
have  to  worry  so  much. 

She  was  almost  glad  to  hear  the 
telephone  ringing  so  that  Matt 
could  stop  pacing  and  answer  it. 
She  didn't  mind  the  telephone  so 
much  when  it  rang  at  lunch  time. 
Besides,  Matt  had  really  been  able 
to  enjoy  his  sandwich  and  cold  milk. 
She  smiled  as  he  picked  up  the 

"Answer  it,  Dr.  Matthew  Wire! 
It's  probably  someone  who  knows 
we're  alone  together,  having  a  cozy 
little  chat,  and  .  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  drained  slowly  away 
as  she  watched  Matt's  features 
change.  She  knew  the  voice  on  the 
other  end  was  terribly  urgent  by 
the  way  he  answered. 

As  he  put  the  phone  down,  he 
spoke  crisply,  "An  accident,  Lorna. 
A  two-car  crash.  Several  people 
hurt.  They  want  Uncle  John,  Hal- 
lie,  and  me."  He  went  to  get  his 
bag,  adding:  "Lorna,  look  after  the 

office.  Please  telephone  the  after- 
noon patients,  and  tell  them  we 
won't  be  here,  to  come  in  the  morn- 
ing, beginning  at  eight,  if  neces- 

He  left  the  house  quickly,  after 
speaking  on  the  intercommunica- 
tion phone  to  Uncle  John  and  Hal- 
lie.  Lorna  stood  at  the  door,  pale 
and  shaken  by  the  message,  as  the 
car  rolled  out  of  the  driveway  and 
up  the  street. 

A  few  minutes  later,  she  was  al- 
most glad  to  see  Carole  running 
across  the  street,  her  small  puppy, 
Chews,  barking  lustily  at  her  heels. 

When  Carole  came  in,  Lorna 
was  surprised  to  find  that  she  was 
rather  pale  and  frightened  looking, 
and  that  she  was  crying  a  little 

She  hurried  to  ask  about  Chews, 
fearing  that  something  had  hap- 
pened to  the  puppy.  But  Carole 
shook  her  braids,  and  through  her 
sobbing,  explained  that  it  wasn't 
the  little  dog. 

"It's  not  Chews!  It's  me/"  She 
sobbed  again,  and  held  up  her  hand. 
It  was  crudely  wrapped  in  a  hand- 
kerchief—a not-too-clean  handker- 
chief—and there  was  blood  mixed 
with  the  dirt  on  the  cloth.  Carole 
cried  shrilly:  "I'm  hurt!  It's  bleed- 
ing. It  pains  me.  I  don't  know 
what  to  do.  My  Mama's  gone  to 
the  grocery  store,  and  Chews  and 
I  are  all  alone!" 

Lorna  was  too  shocked  and  wor- 
ried to  speak.  She  could  scarcely 
manage  her  breath.  She  looked 
wildly  across  the  street  for  Mrs. 
Wilson.  For  anyone.  Carole's  wails 
were  loud  and  frightening.  "Dr. 
Matt  and  Hallie  are  gone,  and 
there's  nobody  to  wrap  it  up." 



T  ORNA     stared     in     horror     at 

the  blood-soaked  handkerchief 
which  Carole  had  used  to  wrap  up 
the  cut.  The  sight  of  the  blood 
made  her  physically  ill.  She  felt 
faint,  nauseated,  and  caught  at  the 
back  of  a  chair  to  steady  herself. 

"Maybe  Anne  would  know  what 
to  do,"  she  muttered  confusedly. 
"Or  Jeanne 

"i  fell  and  broke  a  bottle,"  sobbed 
Carole,  and  Lorna  wanted  to  sob, 

But  she  knew  that  no  matter  how 
hard  it  was  going  to  be  to  attend 
the  cut,  she  had  a  responsibility. 
She  remembered  what  Matt  had 
told  her  once  about  a  doctor,  or 
nurse,  having  a  great  need  for  a 
poker  face.  She  must  pretend  to 
be  calm  and  professional  in  the  face 
of  Carole's  fear. 

"We'll  go  into  the  office,"  she 
said  more  loudly  than  she  expect- 
ed. "We'll  find  something  to  stop 
the  bleeding.  When  Dr.  Matt 
comes  back,  he  can  fix  it  properly. 
First,"  she  said,  opening  Matt's 
office  door,  "I  suppose  we  should 
wash  off  all  the  dirt 

The  warm  water  made  Carole 
flinch,  so  she  used  cold.  All  the 
time  she  was  examining  the  cut— 
which  was  long  and  deep— she  felt 
like  fainting  and  only  kept  herself 
from  doing  so  by  taking  a  big 
drink  of  cold  water.  She  gave  one 
to  Carole,  too. 

"Now  for  some  salve  .  .  .  ."  she 
said  unsteadily,  and  her  knees  felt 
wobbly  as  she  went  towards  Hallie's 

Searching  among  the  jars  and 
bottles,  carefully  labeled  in  Hal- 
lie's  precise  handwriting,  Lorna 
tried  to  recall  what  Matt  had  said 
about  penicillin.    Well,  if  it  could 

cure  pneumonia,  it  could  surely 
cure  cuts!  There  was  a  big  tube. 
She  squeezed  a  more  than  gener- 
ous amount  on  a  piece  of  gauze  and 
managed  a  not  too  unprofessional 
bandage  on  Carol's  hand. 

Then  she  made  Carole  lie  down, 
for  the  child  still  looked  pale  and 

"I'll  see  if  I  can  find  something 
for  you  to  play  with,"  she  said  as  she 
disappeared  into  the  corridors. 

Oh,  if  she  had  only  not  given 
away  the  very  last  of  her  little  scrap- 
books.  The  magazines  were  all  cut 
up  because  she  and  Matt  had 
already  read  them.  Her  eyes 
searched  wildly  all  about  the  apart- 
ment. They  fell  on  the  little  china 
kittens.  Very  reluctantly,  she  picked 
them  up. 

Carole  was  sitting  up,  looking 
out  of  the  window  when  she  came 
back.  Carole  didn't  seem  to  see 
the  kittens,  she